


Twelve Days of Shobbs

by Omnivorous_Reader



Category: Fast and the Furious Series, Hobbs & Shaw (2019)
Genre: 12 Days of Christmas, Candy Canes, Christmas, Eggnog, Extreme Amounts of Fluff, Fluff, Gun Violence, Hot Chocolate, I think I just wrote a pg-13 Hallmark channel movie, M/M, Mistletoe, New Year's Kiss, Scarves, Secret Santa, Slow Burn, Snow Angels, Ugly Sweaters, angst in chap 9, caroling, gingerbread, have an extra chap since i love all of you so much, small descriptions of blood and violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 21,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21788398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnivorous_Reader/pseuds/Omnivorous_Reader
Summary: This is a serious of prompts following the relationship between Luke Hobbs and Deckard Shaw through the twelve days of Christmas.
Relationships: Luke Hobbs/Deckard Shaw
Comments: 31
Kudos: 303





	1. Day 1- Mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I was inspired by Happy_Days19's fic "Until the Stars Go Out" (go check it out if you haven't already) and wanted to do a series of Shobbs stories myself. Thus, I bring you the 12 Days of Christmas, Fast and Furious style.
> 
> Each day there is an overall Christmas/winter theme, along side a bit of a song that I came up with for these stories.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

It was pure chaos at Mr. Nobody’s facility. Well, more like festive chaos if you wanted to be realistic. Everywhere you looked, there was some kind of Christmas decoration: there was a fully decorated Christmas tree in every main room, sparkling lights hanging from the ceilings, fake snow covering every flat surface not in use, and hanging in every doorway, a mistletoe.

When Luke had entered the facility, he had been a little worried that he was going to be told that Mr. Nobody was Santa Claus when he wasn’t running a secret spy organization. Especially since he saw several agents dressed up as elves. As Luke wandered the halls, heading towards the usual meeting room the team used, he was greeted by Little Nobody. The man looked flustered, cheeks red and hair a mess. 

“Hey man, what’s going on?” Luke asked, concerned by the almost traumatic look in Little Nobody’s eyes. 

“Your friend from the CIA is here,” he explained. “He’s making it his goal to kiss everyone in the facility because of all the mistletoe.”

“Oh hell,” Luke laughed. “That definitely sounds like something Locke would do. I’ll see if I can’t get him to stop.”

“Thanks,” Little Nobody mumbled and brushed past listlessly. 

Shaking his head, kept walking, keeping an eye out for Locke. Luke wasn’t sure how the CIA agent had weaseled his way into working with Mr. Nobody for their next mission, but knowing both men, Luke was sure they got along like peas in a pod. Speaking of Locke, Luke spotted the man in the doorway to the meeting room. He was pointing up at the double mistletoe above his and his current victim’s head. There was a huge smile on his face as he was undoubtedly explaining that his victim had no choice but to accept his kiss. 

Luke couldn’t see who Locke was terrorizing, but if it was anyone on the team, Locke was in for a world of hurt. Deciding he didn’t want to see his friend beaten up, Luke picked up his pace and tried to interrupt. As he reached Locke, Luke saw a panicked look cross over his friend’s face. And before Luke could stop him, Locke had spotted him and pulled Luke towards him. Just in time for Luke to take a punch meant for him.

The punch landed on his jaw with the force of a bulldozer and forced Luke to take a step back. 

“Ow,” Luke said, rubbing his sore jaw and blinking tears from his eyes. He could hear footsteps running away, no doubt Locke escaping.

“Bloody hell,” a distressed voice said. It was coming from the person who had delivered the punch. 

Luke looked over, taking in his impromptu attacker. “Bet you’ve been waiting a while to do that, huh?”

“Maybe,” Deckard said, a small smirk on his face. “But I was trying to get that annoying wanker.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Luke said dryly, still rubbing his jaw. “Heard he’s been going after everyone under a mistletoe. I’m a little surprised he had the balls to go after you, though.”

“I’m not. Bastard’s been eyeing me since he got here,” Deckard grumbled, his mouth twisted in a frown and arms crossed. 

Luke was taken aback. He knew Locke was the type to get with anything that moved, but Deckard Shaw? Really? Looking the Brit over, Luke tried to see why Locke would have gone after him.

Yes, the other man’s cheekbones were sharp as knives, his body lean like a swimmer’s, eyes sharp and a beautiful color, and the small frown, almost a pout, on his lips made the man’s whole face to soften somehow. And no doubt Locke also liked how Deckard was a bit shorter than him, forcing the ex-agent to look up to make eye contact. 

And, all right. Luke could definitely see why Locke would try to get Deckard under the mistletoe. 

“Yeah, Locke’s a bastard like that,” Luke chuckled, Deckard nodding in agreement. Suddenly, the Brit narrowed his eyes, and raised his hand towards Luke’s face.

“I didn’t get you that bad, did I?” He asked, watching Luke still absent-mindedly rubbing his jaw. And Luke wasn’t sure, but he could have sworn he heard a tinge of concern in his voice.

Luke snorted. “Trust me, princess, it felt like the brush of a butterfly’s wing.”

“Is that so?” Deckard narrowed his eyes further. “Then why did it look like you were about to start bawling like a babe when I hit you, She-hulk?”

“Trick of the light,” Luke shrugged. “But if you really want a chance to go at it, I’ll make sure to schedule you in.”

“How generous of you,” Deckard deadpanned. But as he looked Luke over, a mischievous look entered his eye. “But maybe you should take that time to visit a doctor. ‘Cause I think your face is gonna bruise.”

Luke immediately touched his face, knowing the man was probably right. The punch had been pretty strong, even though Luke wouldn’t never admit it. Suddenly, the double mistletoe caught his eye, and he felt his own mischievous smirk grow on his face. 

“You know, maybe if you kissed it better, it might not,” Luke said casually.

Deckard’s eyes widened. “You’re joking.”

“Well, we are under the mistletoe,” Luke shrugged. The shock on the other man’s face transformed into an expression mixed between uncertainty and like he just bitten into something rotten. “I’m just kidding, you don’t actua-”

But he was cut off as Deckard jerked forward and grabbed Luke’s head with both hands. Firmly, he pulled Luke down, angled his face, and gently brushed his lips against Luke’s sore jaw, his lips soft and gentle against the slowly forming bruise. And just as quick, Deckard let Luke go, and coughed into his fist, avoiding eye contact. 

“Hope it doesn’t bruise, mate,” Deckard mumbled before pushing Luke out of the way and almost sprinted down the hall, away from Luke. Who just stared after the smaller man, holding his jaw, and still feeling the heat from Deckard’s lips on his face.

**… A punch to the face!**


	2. Day 2- Scarves

**On the second day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

“Reminder to self: never visit Canada in the winter ever again,” Luke mumbled to himself as he got out of his truck and landed in almost a foot of snow. Sighing, he trudged through the unblemished snow towards the other vehicles sitting in the clearing. There were three other large trucks and SUVs, with several DSS agents milling around them, setting up equipment.

Heading towards them, Luke tugged his hat further over his ears and tried to ignore the strong wind trying to knock him off his feet. Reaching some of the techies, he could see that they were struggling to keep the equipment snow free.

“Hey!” He called out to the agents. “Who’s in charge here?”  
“I suppose that’s me,” a woman stepped forward. She was about a head shorter than Luke and wearing at least four layers of clothing. She didn’t bother to offer her hand to shake, instead keeping it in her pocket while she introduced herself. “I’m Agent Mou. Nice to meet you Agent Hobbs.”

“Same to you, ma’am. So what’s the game plan?”

“I don’t want to start the brief until your partner arrives.”

“Partner? What partner? I was told I would be doing this solo,” Luke asked, staring at the smaller woman, eyebrows furrowed. 

“We thought so too, but your superior, Mr. Nobody, contacted us and said he was sending another agent,” Mou shrugged. She was shifting from one foot to the other, no doubt trying to stay warm. 

“Of course he called,” Luke muttered to himself. Turning back to Mou, he asked, “Anything you want me to do right now?”

“Unless you know how to hack closed camera systems from five miles away, no Agent Hobbs, I don’t need you to do anything right now,” Mou said irritably. “We’ll brief you and supply you with the equipment you’ll need when your partner arrives.”

With that, Mou stormed off, having to lift her feet all the way off the ground just to walk through the high snow. Sighing, Luke couldn’t fault the woman’s irritability; she was running an operation while it was below freezing, enough snow to make an army of snowmen, and now she was forced to add yet another agent to the equation, without knowing if she could trust either Hobbs or his mysterious partner. Deciding to try to stay on the woman’s good side, Luke stood close enough to the trucks to be shielded from the harsh wind, but far enough away so as not to be in the way. 

After ten minutes of Luke practically feeling his fingers lose feeling, he finally saw another vehicle pull up. It was military grade, and looked as if it could drive through four feet of snow with how tall the wheels were. Luke watched the car park close to them and the driver step out.

Well, the person looked more like a marshmallow on legs with a large, white coat on. Squinting, Luke could also see a grey scarf the size of a blanket wrapped around the person’s neck, obscuring their face further. As the person came closer, Luke could see that their black beanie had small cat ears on the top and a cat nose and whiskers on the front of the hat. Luke just stared at them until they were close enough for Luke to hear them.

“Nobody said you’d need help,” Deckard Shaw grunted. “Didn’t mention we’d be doing the job in Jack Frost’s arsehole.”

“Frankly, I don’t know why the hell he called you in,” Luke said, still a bit dazed at seeing Deckard. “But it makes sense that he would send an elf to the north pole.”

“Get bent, you tosser,” the smaller man grumbled, and seemed to burrow further into the giant scarf that hid most of his face.

Before Luke could say something in kind, he heard snow crunching and turned his head to see Agent Mou heading towards him and Deckard. The cold didn’t seem to be agreeing with her by the pissed off look on her face. 

“About time you showed up. We’re almost half an hour late. If we’re supposed to get this done before sunset, then I suggest you two stop the little tea party you’re having, and get your asses over here,” she snapped at the two men. 

“Sorry, miss. Took longer than I thought to get out here,” Deckard apologized politely.

“I don’t care why, just follow me. I need to brief both of you,” Mou angrily told them. Deckard and Luke shared a look with each other before falling in step behind Mou as she led them to a tent that had been set up. The inside just barely fit the three and another agent, who was rapidly putting items into two packs. 

“Ok, you two, here’s the deal. Your target is this,” Mou showed them an image on her tablet. It was a small missile, one that could fit perfectly in Luke’s hand. “This was developed by an American weaponsmith for the U.S. army, but only a handful were actually made. It was made to destroy up to a 200 mile radius, destroying everything around, even underground bunkers. A small terrorist cell was able to get their hands on one. We need you two go in and retrieve it.” 

“Simple enough,” Luke commented. 

“Glad you think that, Hobbs,” Mou responded dryly. Quickly, she brought up the blueprints of a large storage building. “We were able to get the rough layout of their hideout, but we don’t know much else. Nothing about how many guys there are, or what kind of weapons they have. I’ve had my boys prepare you enough ammunition to take down any stronghold, along with a device to block any electrical signals from being sent out.”

“Like Hobbs said, this shouldn’t be too much trouble,” Deckard said.

“Never thought I’d ever hear you agreeing with me,” Luke said, an eyebrow raised at Deckard, who was glaring back at him.

“Since you two seem to know what you’re doing,” Mou interrupted, “Then I encourage you two to leave. Now.”

Taking the hint, Deckard and Luke took the packs from the other agent and made their way outside.

“We’re taking my car,” Deckard announced, not bothering to look at Luke.

“Fine. But I’m driving.”

“When hell freezes over, jackass.”

Climbing into the passenger side of Deckard’s car, Luke couldn’t help but stare at the other man. It had been only a week ago that the other man had placed a kiss on Luke. And Luke still wasn’t sure what to feel about it. The entire time during that mission, Luke couldn’t get the kiss out of his mind, and it seemed like this mission was going to be about the same.

“Got something to say, Hobbs?” Deckard snapped, after a few minutes of silence, and a couple dozen of side glances from Luke. 

“Just wondering what in the living hell you’re wearing, is all,” Luke shrugged. 

“Owen and a few of his mates went to Switzerland for a ski trip, and he took a lot of my snow gear. The little arsehole,” Deckard mumbled the last part mostly to himself. 

“And you just happened to own a hat with a cat face?”

“Present from my mum. She thought it looked cute,” Deckard rolled his eyes. 

“It sure is,” Luke snorted. “It fits well with the stuck up princess look you have going.”

“I know it must be hard for your walnut-sized brain to understand this, but I could easily leave your arse out here to freeze to death.”

“Oh, I’d love to see you try,” Luke challenged. 

“Just keep pushing, sunshine.”

Luke chuckled at the threat. They were quiet for a time, with Luke staring out at the snowy landscape, and Deckard navigating the car through it. Unfortunately, Luke couldn’t enjoy the view, instead his mind going back to the kiss. 

“I swear I can see the smoke coming out of your ears right now,” Deckard chuckled. “You’re going to hurt yourself thinking that hard.”

“Very funny, asshole,” Luke rolled his eyes. Looking over at the smaller man, he decided to take a leap of faith. “I was just wondering. Why did you kiss me back at the base?”

He saw Deckard’s hands tighten on the wheel and his mouth pull down into a frown. “We were under the mistletoe. Don’t read into it.”

“I told you, you didn’t have to. But you still did. So, why did-”

“Look, just drop it,” Deckard snapped, interrupting Luke. “We’re at the drop point. We need to walk from here.”

Which meant that they would be walking in the strong wind, making it impossible for them to hold a conversation. Sighing, Luke followed the other man.

The plan was for them to park a short distance away from the facility, walk the rest of the way, and sneak in. From there, they would split up and each look for the missile on their own. All they needed to do was not to alert the guards, so it should have been an easy job. 

Unfortunately, alert the guards was the only thing Luke seemed to do. When Mou had said that they had no idea how many guards there were, she hadn’t been joking. Every corner Luke went around had at least five guys, each armed to the teeth. It was inevitable that he would alert one of them.

That’s how he found himself in a massive gun fight, hiding behind a random pile of boxes in one of the main rooms of the facility. Bullets were flying past where he was hiding, slowly chipping away at his cover. Luke knew that his shelter was either going to be demolished or he was going to run out of ammunition. And he was sure that the former of the two was going to happen soon, because he only had one more clip left. 

Cursing his luck, Luke put the final clip in his gun, and quickly popped out from his cover. He was able to hit three assailants, but as soon as one went down, two more took their place. Out of options, Luke desperately looked around, trying to find an escape route, but found nothing. Before despair could overwhelm him, Luke heard a yell over the gunfire. 

“Hobbs!” Came a distinct voice shouted. “Down!”

And it was almost predictable what happened next. While Luke wasn’t exactly expecting it, he wasn’t surprised to hear the sound of a small grenade go off in the middle of the guards shooting at him. In the confusion of the blast, the bullets stopped, allowing Luke to duck out from his cover. Spotting Deckard on the other side of the room fighting three guards, Luke started heading towards him, trying to find a gun for himself on the way.

Having no luck finding a gun, Luke was forced to fight off the guys that came between him and Deckard. After taking down ten of them, Luke finally reached Deckard, who was missing his large coat, but still had his hat and scarf. Other than the missing coat, Deckard was only slightly panting, almost as if he hadn’t taken down twenty trained men in the last ten minutes, and had only gone for a short jog in the park. 

“Did you get the missile?” Luke hurriedly asked. 

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, I got it,”Deckard huffed and showed Luke a small case, presumably carrying the missile. 

“Good. We need to get out,” Luke looked around them, spotting a side door, that was being guarded by thirty or so men. “You got any extra guns on you?”

“Yeah. Here,” Deckard responded. Reaching into his scarf, he pulled out a pair of silver revolvers from the folds of his scarf. “They’re already loaded.”

“How the hell?” Luke whispered to himself, but took the guns nonetheless. Shaking his head, Luke chalked it up to Deckard being an ex-MI6 agent. “Come on, there’s an exit over there.”

Together, they slowly made their way towards the exit, back to back, and taking shots at anyone that came at them. Even though Luke couldn’t see it, he could hear Deckard take down several men that tried to rush them. Trusting Deckard’s abilities, Luke focused on the men coming his way. 

After what felt like hours, they finally broke through the wall of men, and outside. It was only a short jog to Deckard’s car, and they were speeding away. Looking out the side mirror, Luke was surprised not to see any vehicles chasing them.

“Where are they?” Luke asked aloud.

“I might’ve blown up all their snowmobiles,” Deckard laughed, giving Luke a toothy grin.

“You fucking pyromaniac!” Luke laughed. 

Soon enough, they were back at the base camp, handing the missile over to Mou. Who gave them a few choice words over their fairly explosive retrieval of it. After a short reprimand and praise for getting the missile out successfully, she sent them on their way.

“Hey. Thanks for the guns,” Luke said, as he and Deckard walked through the flurry of agents dismantling equipment. Holding the guns out to the smaller man, Luke was surprised when Deckard instead pushed Luke’s hand away.

“Keep ‘em. ,” Deckard shrugged. 

“You sure?” Luke asked, not a small amount of confusion in his voice.

“I know you like Chiappa Rhino guns. So just keep them.”

“Thanks, man,” Luke said graciously. They were standing in front of Deckard’s car, as Luke took in the other man. Deckard’s face was flushed red from the cold, and he had a small smile on his face.

“Don’t mention it. You need all the help you can get, twinkletoes,” Deckard said, his smile growing. Luke help but smile back before something popped back into his head. 

“Hey. You never answered my question.”

“What?”

“Why’d you kiss me?”

“Just drop it, Hobbs,” Deckard sighed. Swiftly, he was in his car and slamming the door in Luke’s face. 

“Oh come on! Just answer me!” Luke shouted after Deckard’s speeding car.

**… Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**


	3. Day 3- Secret Santa

**On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

“It’s your turn, Deckard,” Mr. Nobody said cheerfully, holding out a santa hat filled with names. Rolling his eyes, Deckard sat up in the chair he had been lounging in and complied, drawing out Ramsey’s name. 

“Can’t believe you’re having a group of criminals doin’ a Secret Santa,” Deckard commented, already thinking of ideas for Ramsey’s present. 

“Everyone needs some holiday magic, even hardened criminals, Deckard,” Mr. Nobody smiled. “Just remember, don’t do anything too illegal when getting a present.”

“Just take all the fun out of it, why don’t you,” Deckard mumbled to himself as Mr. Nobody walked away, finding anyone else who hadn’t gotten their Secret Santa. 

Looking around the conference room, Deckard could see some merit in what Mr. Nobody had said: Ramsey was rapidly typing on her computer, while Dom and Letty had their heads together and whispering, and Roman was pacing back and forth in a corner, his face twisted in concentration. They all seemed to be invested in the idea of getting presents for each other. 

Casting his gaze further, he could see Luke and Tej leaning against a wall, both staring down at the names they had gotten. Tej was trying to get a look at Luke’s, who pulled it away from him and glared. Smirking, Tej put his hands up, and apologized. Luke simply shook his head and looked down at the paper again, a look of despair crossing his face. 

Tilting his head to the side, Deckard couldn’t help but wonder whose name Luke had gotten. 

~~~

“ _ And we can dress real neat from our hats to our feet, and surprise 'em with the victory cry,” _ rang out in the quiet room. 

Sitting in a hotel room bed, with his laptop on his lap, Deckard’s eyebrows rose. He wasn’t expecting Hattie to be calling. Hoping it wasn’t an emergency, he answered. “Hey, Hatts.”

“Hi, Deck.”

“Everything ok?”

“Always the worrywart, aren’t you?” Hattie chuckled. “Nothin’s wrong. Just wanted to talk.”

“About what?” Deckard asked letting suspicion color his voice. Usually, he and his siblings texted each other, only bothering to call when it was necessary. 

“Well,” Hattie hesitated. “I heard you were doing a Secret Santa with that American team.”

“How’d you know that?” Quickly, Deckard typed out a few messages to the people he had been messaging. He wanted his full attention on this conversation. 

“Let’s just say a little birdie told me. And then asked me to help them with your gift.”

“One of them contacted you?” Deckard’s confusion grew. The team didn’t even know he had a sister, let alone how to contact her. Then it hit him. There was only one person on the team who knew Hattie. “Hobbs is my Secret Santa?”  
“I can’t confirm or deny that,” Hattie said, but Deckard could hear the smile in her voice.

“What’s he gettin’ me?”  
“Deck!” Hattie playfully scolded him. “I can’t tell you! It’s a secret!”

“Not even a hint?” Deckard laughed. 

“All I can tell you is that you’ll like it.”

“Very helpful, Hatts,” he said dryly.

“Oh come off it. He’s going to a lot of trouble for your present. You’ll like it.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Deckard said, picking his laptop up again. “Hey, while I have you, do you know any hackers?”

“Why? I thought you could get through almost any firewall by yourself,” Hattie asked.

“Don’t you ever doubt my abilities,” Deckard huffed. “It’s not for me. We have a hacker on the team, Ramsey, and I’m her Secret Santa. I wanted to get her a list of hackers she could talk to. The team’s not really known for speaking tech talk.”

“I see. I’ll see who would be willing. Have you asked Oh’s hacker friends? He seems to have dozens of them.”

“Yeah, I already did. Most of them want to talk to her.”

“Really? What’s she known for?”

“She’s the one who created the God’s Eye,” Deckard responded.

“What?!” Hattie screamed. 

“Christ! What the hell, Hat?” Deckard winced.

“You never you said that you were talking about  _ the  _ Ramsey! You have to introduce us!’’ Hattie excitedly shouted.

“Fine! I’ll see what I can do.”

“You better give her my number, Deck,” Hattie said with a note of threat. 

“I’ll add it to the list,” Deckard assured, and rolled his eyes at Hattie’s antics.

“It better be at the top,” she grumbled. 

~~~

Two days later, Deckard’s phone gave a small pinging noise. Deckard was having dinner by himself at the hotel’s restaurant and enjoying an after dinner cup of tea. Looking down at his phone, he saw he had gotten a few texts from his brother.

From ‘Oh No’: _ Finally got someone to go with me _

“And do what?” Deckard muttered to himself, furrowing his eyebrows. Opening the text, he saw that Owen had also sent a video. Turning his phone’s volume off, Deckard pressed play. 

Even with a helmet and large goggles on, it would be impossible to mistake Owen for anyone else, as he had a huge grin on his face, which took up the whole screen. He mouthed:

“See you at the bottom.” Before moving the camera to rest on the top of his helmet. 

The view changed to a beautiful, snowy mountain range that was framed by a perfect, sunny sky, not a cloud in sight. The camera shifted angles, shifting downwards and showed a valley of pine trees below the cliff Owen seemed to be standing on. Deckard could feel his chest tighten with fear; he knew exactly what Owen was planning to do. 

And much to his chagrin, Owen did exactly what Deckard predicted. The camera was looking straight down at Owen’s feet as he stepped off the cliff, and plumpeted through the air. Deckard lurched in his chair, eyes going wide. 

However, instead of meeting the ground, Owen started to glide over the rocky cliffs dusted with snow. He went over several small outcrops of rocks and seemed to fly next to the walls of the valley he was falling into. There were several instances where Deckard feared Owen would crash into the mountain’s side or clip the top of a tree. But nothing harmful happened. 

Instead, Deckard saw a beautiful part of nature, with no evidence of his brother getting himself killed. Suddenly, the camera jerked, and Owen’s descent slowed. In one corner of the camera, Deckard could see the edges of a parachute. Sighing in relief, Deckard finally relaxed back into his chair, feeling as if he had just aged ten years.

“You’re such a little prick, Oh,” Deckard sighed and rubbed his face in exhaustion before turning back to the video.

The ground was close as Owen kicked his legs out and made a smooth landing. The camera was once more shifted as Owen removed it from his helmet. He had taken off his goggles, and his face was lit up with manic glee. He seemed to be laughing as he turned to look back up at the sky, and Deckard could just see a small figure of someone else parachuting down. But, Owen moved the camera back on his own face as he once again mouthed something.

“You need to try this!” And with that, the video ended. 

“In your dreams, Oh,” Deckard whispered. 

~~~

“And here’s yours, Ramsey,” Mr. Nobody announced, his face nearly splitting in half by how much he was smiling as he handed out presents to the team.

Taking the small box, Ramsey opened it up, obviously excited to see what it was. She let out a laugh as she pulled out a small figurine of Gordon Ramsey.

“Very funny,” she giggled and fiddling with it. “Wait. What’s this?”

She suddenly was able to pull the figurine’s feet off, revealing it to be a USB stick. She stared at it for a second before racing to her computer and plugging it in. Everyone was watching her was her face twisted in confusion, before she gasped in shock. 

“I can’t believe this!” She squealed with delight.

“What is it?” Tej called out.

“It’s an address book of the most famous hackers in the world! There’s Alec Hardison, Timothy McGee, Felicity Smoak, and even Clara Oswald!” Ramsey was almost jumping with joy as she read off the names. 

“Do you know who any of those people are?” Deckard heard Roman whisper to Tej. 

“Nope,” Tej responded. 

Deckard tried to keep his smile from blooming across his face as he watched Ramsey drop herself down in a chair and her fingers fly across her keyboard. Hopefully she would be messaging Hattie first, as she was at the top of the list. 

“All right then. Who’s next?” Mr. Nobody asked and picked up a large present from the pile. “This one’s for Deckard!”

Taking the box, Deckard was a little surprised by the weight of it. He swore that if Hobbs actually got him coal for Christmas, Deckard promised to deck Hobbs’ halls. Ripping the rapping and taking the lid off, Deckard was met with three more, smaller boxes. Frowning, he picked up the middle one. 

Inside was a model car of a periwinkle Porsche Carrera GT, Hattie’s favorite car. The model was perfectly detailed, almost as if Deckard was looking at the real thing. Gently putting it down, he grabbed another box, revealing an emerald green Lotus Evora, Owen’s favorite car. Again, it was a perfect replica. Placing it next to the other car, Deckard went for the last box. Inside was a white Lamborghini Aventador, one of Deckard’s favorite cars. 

“Those look impressive,” Dom said, looking at the cars appreciatively. 

“Yeah, they are,” Deckard said breathlessly.

He couldn’t believe the amount of detail that had gone into the gift. Growing up, one thing the Shaw siblings had in common was their love of cars. And to have a memento of all their favorites was touching. 

After a few more amazed comments from the team, Mr. Nobody was handing someone else their present, leaving Deckard to stare at his, thinking. 

Once all the presents were opened, everyone dispersed through the room, enjoying their gifts. However, Deckard decided to confront his Secret Santa. He found Luke by the snack table, luckily by himself. Sliding up next to the other man, Deckard brushed his shoulder against Luke’s.

“Did you really jump off a cliff with my brother, just to find out what his favorite car was?” Deckard asked casually. 

“Shit!” Luke yelped, nearly dropping the plate he was holding. “You need to wear a fucking bell!”

Deckard just smirked.

“And for your information, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Luke grumbled. 

“Hattie already told me you were my Secret Santa, so stop pretending, twinkletoes.”  
“Of course she did.” Luke shook his head. “Knew she wouldn’t bother keeping her mouth shut.”

“She’s a little sister. Tattling is all she does,” Deckard said. 

“Very true,” Luke chuckled. “And yes. I did jump off a cliff with your brother.”

“Just for future reference, if you want any information out of him, just give him a kilogram of chocolate instead. You’ll get the same results.”

“Wish I knew that before I agreed to go wingsuit flying with him.”

“Better you than me,” Deckard said. “He’s been bugging me to do that for ages.”

“Is he always such an adrenaline junky?”

“Yep.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Luke brushed his shoulder against Deckard’s to get his attention. When Deckard was looking him in the eye, Luke earnestly asked:

“So, do you like your present?”  
Deckard felt his lips form into a small, sincere smile. “Yeah, I love it.”

“Glad to hear it,” Luke smiled back. 

They stood there, bodies touching from hip to shoulder, watching the rest of the party. 

**… Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone was wondering, the ringtone song Deckard assigned Hattie is "Safety Dance" by Men without Hats


	4. Day 4- Candy Canes

**On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

Luke was inspecting his guns and carefully placing them into his bag in preparation for the team’s next mission. All around him, he could hear the others grabbing their own gear, a quiet buzz of background noise as he focused on his own task. He was strapping on his bullet-proof vest when he heard loud footsteps. Looking up, Luke saw Roman stomping towards him, huffing and puffing like a pissed off bull.

“How are you so comfortable with  _ him _ being here?” He demanded and jerked his head towards two people standing on the other side of the room.

“Are you talking about Shaw?” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Hell yes I mean Shaw!”  
“What’s your problem? Just the other day, he helped you put new tires on your car.”

“Not that Shaw! The other one!” Roman practically shouted, and harshly pointed at Owen Shaw, who looked to be annoying the crap out of Deckard. 

“Oh, that one! Why didn’t you say so?” Luke teased.

“You know for damn sure I wasn’t talking about Deckard,” Roman fumed. “Why are we all acting as if he won’t turn on us the second he can?”

“Why? Think he’s going to stab you with a candy cane?” Luke asked.

“What?” Roman asked incredulously. Nodding his head towards the brothers, Luke watched as Owen forced Deckard to take several candy canes, and then put the rest in his own bag. “Why does he have those?”

“Sweet tooth apparently,” Luke shrugged and turned back to his own bag, trying to finish his own preparations. 

“But how can you trust him?” Roman demanded once again. Luke didn’t bother to hide his eye roll. 

“Roman,” Luke said slowly. “Do you have any siblings?”  
“Yeah, an older sister,” he answered, confused.

“And as kids, did your sister keep you in line?”  
“Well, yeah. She’s scary as hell, man.”

“Then just apply the same logic to Owen,” Luke explained. “I don’t trust Owen, but I do trust that Deckard will beat his ass if he tries something funny.”

“I don’t know, man,” Roman said with uncertainty. “Do you really trust Deckard that much?”

“Honestly, Roman,” Luke answered. “I’d trust Deckard with my life. And I have-- several times.”

“Huh,” Roman said simply before giving Luke a nod and walking away.

Shaking his head at Roman’s theatrics, Luke turned back to his bag and placed one last gun in it. 

~~~

“Can anyone copy?! Hello?!” Luke yelled into his com, hoping against hope that it wasn’t broken. Nothing but static came through. “Damn it!”

Luke couldn’t believe how bad his luck had gotten. As soon as the team had landed at the abandoned military base, they found out that it wasn’t as abandoned as they had expected. There was a small army inside and taking full advantage of the extra weapons still left at the base. The team had to split up or risk being taken down.

Now, he was stuck behind a pillar in some sort of courtyard, chaos coming from almost every angle. He could hear shouting mixed with gunshots, and not too far away, Luke swore he could hear small explosions followed by manic laughing. Ignoring the possible psychopath in the base, Luke focused on finding anyone else. Peeking out from his cover, Luke saw an opening: several of his assailants had run off towards where the explosions were coming from, leaving only a handful left to deal with Luke. Looks like his luck was finally coming back.

Easily shooting half of them from behind his pillar, Luke was able to roll to another, and take down the other half. The whole maneuver only took a minute, but it left Luke breathing hard. He had been taking these guys out for the last half hour, but he didn’t seem to be getting any closer to finding any of his teammates. 

Letting out a breath of frustration, Luke stood up and decided to take one of the passageways back into the main base. He was slightly crouched, gun held in both hands as he crept along the dark hallway, approaching where the earlier explosions were occurring.

“Three guesses as to who that could be,” Luke whispered to himself. 

Ahead of him, he could see a sharp corner with sunlight coming from it, indicating that he was probably going to enter another courtyard. Slowly approaching the corner, he could hear shouting followed by shooting. Coming to a stop at the corner, Luke pressed his back against the wall, gun poised to shoot whoever was about to come around the corner. Suddenly, everything was quiet, causing Luke to tense. 

Quiet only meant someone had won the fight, and Luke wasn’t sure if the victor was enemy or foe. And seemed like he was going to get an answer because he heard someone running towards his hiding spot. Counting the seconds, Luke whipped out from around the corner, gun pointed directly at Deckard Shaw.

Luke’s breath caught as he took the other man in. Deckard was breathing hard and flushed from the fight he had just come from. His eyes were bright as he stared back at Luke, almost like a deer caught in headlights. His clothes were disheveled, completing Deckard’s entire ensemble of being a mess. Behind him, sunlight was pouring in and creating a halo around him and illuminating every single bit of dust and rubble that covered him.

And in that moment, Luke only had one thought going through his mind:

_ He’s absolutely beautiful _ .

Even though Luke felt like he had been staring at Deckard for hours, in reality he had only done so for a few seconds. He would have gladly stayed there and actually stared for a few hours, if not for Deckard jerking forward and jumping on Luke.

“What…?” Luke started, but then screamed in pain as he felt something sharp stab into the arm holding his gun. “Fuck!”

He was able to push Deckard off of him, but kept his gun pointed downwards. Luke clutched the wound, feeling blood swelling under his fingers. 

“What the hell, Shaw?!” Luke angrily shouted. 

“Hobbs?” Deckard sounded shocked. He was standing a few feet away, clutching his weapon in his hand, staring at Luke in confusion. Luke glared back before his eyes wandered down to what Deckard was holding.

“Did you really stab me with a candy cane?” And Luke would later deny it, but his voice cracked when he nearly screeched the question at Deckard.

Deckard blinked at the shrill noise, and looked down at the candy cane dripping blood that he still had clenched in his hand. Sheepishly, he gave Luke a small smile.

“Maybe?”

“Only you, Deckard Shaw. Only you,” Luke huffed in exhaustion and astonishment. The man really knew how to utilize everything as a weapon. 

“Sorry. Didn’t recognize you in the shadows,” Deckard apologize. Hesitantly, he took a step towards Luke. “Is it bad?”

Lifting his hand, Luke could see that blood was definitely coming from the wound, but not as much compared to stab wounds he had received in the past. “Could be worst.”

“Come here,” Deckard commanded, drawing out bandages from his pack. Deciding Deckard wasn’t going to attack him again, Luke stepped closer, holstered his gun and offered up his injured arm. Quickly and efficiently, Deckard had Luke’s arm bandaged. “That’ll have to do until we get out of here and clean it up.”

“Thanks,” Luke said, looking down at Deckard, who was still holding his arm, inspecting his handiwork. “I’m not going to get an infection from a candy cane, am I?”

“Doubt it, but you never know,” Deckard smirked. Letting go of Luke’s arm, he shifted his pack on his back and walked past Luke. “You comin’ or not, twinkletoes?”

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Princess.”

~~~

Heavily, Luke sat down on one of the benches on the airplane taking them back to Mr. Nobody’s facility. His head fell against the metal of the plane, all of his energy gone from the mission.

After Luke had met up with Deckard, they had quickly found the others, but they still had to fight tooth and nail to get out of the base. They had all gotten out relatively safe and with no major injuries. Which was a success in itself, but all Luke wanted to do now was sleep.

“Hey,” a voice called to him softly. Luke opened his eyes, not realizing he had closed them, and saw Deckard standing in front of him, a med kit in his hands. “Want me to take a look at my handiwork?”

Letting out a snort of amusement, Luke offered up his arm without any resistance. If Deckard wanted to play nurse, Luke wasn’t going to stop him. 

Quietly, Deckard sat down next to him and started to work on the wound. A comfortable silence descended on them as Luke watched Deckard work. His hands were confident in their movements as he cleaned the wound to reveal four small holes in Luke’s arm.

“How the hell did you manage that with a candy cane?” He muttered.

“If you lick it long enough, candy canes can become as sharp as knives,” Deckard smirked up at Luke. 

“That’s absolutely terrifying and insane. I hope you know that,” Luke stated, squinting at Deckard.

“Don’t worry. I only use them around Christmas,” Deckard assured him. “Now does that hurt?”

He had tied off the bandage and carefully holding onto Luke’s wrist, waiting for confirmation. 

“A little bit,” Luke answered and flexed his arm. He felt a twinge of pain, but knew the wound wasn’t deep enough to need stitches and would heal smoothly. “Could you kiss it and make it better?”

Deckard’s face turned bright red as he glared at Luke and dropped his arm. “Would you knock it off with the whole kiss thing?”

“Maybe if you stopped injuring me, I would.” Luke gave a toothy grin. 

“Well, I ain’t doin’ it this time, so suck it up.”

“But your kiss made me heal faster last time,” Luke whined.

“Go to hell, you bollocks for brains imbecile,” Deckard snapped. However, his voice didn’t hold as much bite as it once had in the past. And Luke could see that Deckard’s cheeks had gone even redder at his last comment. “Don’t know why you keep talking about me kissing you.”

“Maybe I like your kisses,” Luke said casually, but on the inside he was nervously watching Deckard’s response.

“I… I,” Deckard stuttered as he did an impressive impression of a gaping fish. 

“Oi, Deck!”

Both men snapped their heads in the direction of the shout. On the far end of the plane, Owen was waving Deckard over, impatiently tapping his foot. 

“Hope you don’t get an infection,” Deckard said hurriedly before rushing off to his waiting brother. 

Luke sighed as he watched the smaller man’s retreating back. Accepting defeat this time, Luke leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. 

**… Four stab wounds**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**


	5. Day 5- Ugly Sweaters

**On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

Luke hastily parked his car, before getting out and rushing towards the black van hiding in the alley he had parked near. He knocked on the van’s back door to be greeted by an annoyed Ramsey.

“Luke! You were supposed to be here an hour ago!” She scolded before ushering him into the van and slamming the door after him.

Inside, the van was decked out with computer monitors and other devices. A true hacker’s paradise. On the screens, Luke could see a party in full swing and as he looked closely, he spotted the other members of the team weaving their way through the crowd.

“Sorry. I had to drop Sam off at a friend’s house, and then got stuck in traffic,” Luke sheepishly apologized. 

“Did you at least bring a sweater?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

“Shit! Knew I forgetting something,” Luke cursed.

“You’re lucky Deckard brought an extra,” she told him before rummaging in a box and pulling out a red and green sweater. “Here. Put this on.”

“Thanks,” Luke mumbled and put the sweater on without really looking at it. “Remind me to thank Shaw later.”

“You can do it now,” Ramsey responded. “Since we were suppose to go in pairs, and Little Nobody got the flu yesterday, you’ll have be Deckard’s date. He’s already inside, waiting for you.”

~~~

After showing his invitation to the guards at the doors, Luke entered the large ballroom that was filled with L.A.’s elite. The team was infiltrating the party to take down a drug lord from Peru, who was attempting to make a deal with another crime lord. However, the party was not an ordinary one; instead, it was an ugly sweater Christmas party. 

Luke was already not fond of the DSS’s ugly sweater parties, but to be standing in the middle of a crowd of wealthy people, who were wearing designer sweaters, made Luke’s stomach churn. Looking over them, Luke could see sweaters that were so long that they touched the floor, one or two had so many lights that the person wearing it had to wear sunglasses, and he could see at least one that was diamond encrusted.

Shaking his head in disappointment, Luke looked down at his own sweater, having not bothered examining it when he put it on. It was a bright green with red trimming on the sleeves and collar, while the main image was of a christmas tree that was brightly decorated. However, the only thing that set it apart was the five large ornaments hanging off the sweater. They were large, gold balls that should have been hanging off a real christmas tree. Luke gently grasped one and felt the considerable weight of it. 

“Oi! Don’t mess with it, you bumbling giant,” hissed a voice at Luke’s elbow.

“Just because you’re an elf doesn’t mean everyone else is a giant,” Luke whispered back as he let go of the ornament and allowed Deckard to loop arms with him. Glancing down, Luke took in the other man. A santa hat was snugly fitted on his head, and the sweater he was wearing had the image of dancing cats, who were also wearing santa hats. “You look ridiculous.” 

“Everyone single person in this room looks ridiculous, you oaf,” Deckard glared. 

“Yeah, but you look even more horrendous than everyone else,” Luke whispered into Deckard’s ear, but had to straighten back up to smile at a few people as they walked by. They would need to act like a happy couple, just like every other couple at the party.

“At least my face doesn’t look like it’s gone through a meat grinder,” Deckard said through a fake smile and tugged on Luke’s arm. He slowly guided them through the crowd until they reached where people were dancing. Specifically, where their target was dancing with his date of the night: a beautiful super model who was there more for the man’s money than his looks.

Immediately, Luke put his hand on Deckard’s waist and took his hand in his. 

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Deckard spat out, glaring daggers. 

“I’m taking the lead, you pint sized chihuahua,” Luke rolled his eyes. Deciding to poke the bear even more, Luke snaked his entire arm around Deckard’s waist and pulled him forward, so their chests were touching, the gold ornaments on Luke’s chest pressing into both of them. “So, unless you want to throw a tantrum and blow our cover, just go with it.”

Deckard huffed out a sigh of frustration, but finally relaxed in Luke’s hold and followed in the dance. As they danced, Luke maneuvered them closer to their target, and made sure to keep an on him, in case he disappeared. 

All the while they were dancing, Luke couldn’t help but enjoy holding Deckard in his arms. The man’s body heat was pleasant as they moved in tandem, moving perfectly together to the slow rhythm of the music. Deckard’s left hand was resting on Luke’s shoulder, while his right was gently clasped with Luke’s hand. Giving it a small squeeze, Luke marveled at how right it felt to have the smaller hand in his. Deckard turned his head back towards Luke, having been focused on watching their target. He tilted his head questioningly, his eyes sparkling up at Luke. 

“What?”

“I…” Luke trailed off, staring deep into those eyes and losing his train of thought. But, a sudden burst of movement at the edge of his vision had Luke jerking his head away from the Brit’s curious look. “Our target’s on the move.”

Swiftly, they followed after him, with Luke keeping Deckard’s hand trapped in his as he dragged the smaller man after him. They followed their target out of the ballroom and down one of the hallways of the hotel. Keeping their distance, they watched as their target met another man in front of a room. The two shook hands before entering the room. 

“Show time, boys and girls,” Luke said into his com. He looked back at Deckard, who already had his gun out and ready to go. Nodding, Luke drew his own gun and led the way to the closed door. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dom and Letty coming up to them, with their own guns poised. Stopping at the door, Luke mouthed a silent countdown.

With as much strength as he could, he kicked the door in, and heard it crash into wall as he and others ran into the room, guns pointed at the two criminals. 

“Nobody move! You’re under arrest!” Luke shouted. 

Surveying the room, he wasn’t expecting at least twenty guns to be pointed at his head. As soon as the words left his mouth, all of those guns were cocked and were shooting bullets. Reacting quickly, Luke shot back while moving backwards out of the room and could feel the other three moving back with him. With extreme luck, Luke was able to dodge the bullets coming at him before he was out the door and had his back against a wall. Listening to the continued gunfire, Luke watched bullets embed themselves into the wall opposite the door they had just come out of. 

“Toretto!” Deckard shouted next to Luke. “Get away from the door!”

Deckard was gesturing wildly at Dom and Letty, who both nodded before running back towards the ballroom. 

“Shaw, what the hell are you plannin’ on doing?” Luke demanded. But instead of responding, Deckard was crowding against him and grabbed at Luke’s chest. Specifically at one of the ornaments on Luke’s sweater. With a strong yank, he had pulled the ornament off the sweater and was chucking it into the room where bullets continued to come from. 

The next thing Luke knew, Deckard had grabbed his arm and was rapidly pulling him away from the wall. They didn’t get too far, when a large explosion came from the room, and a huge blast of air sent Luke and Deckard sprawling. 

Luke grunted in pain from where he had landed on top of Deckard. He could hear shouts and groans of pain coming from the room where the grenade had gone off, while hysterical screaming came from the ballroom. Slowly, Luke got his arms under him and lifted his weight off of Deckard, who was coughing under him. They were both covered in dust, ruining their outfits.

“Are all the ornaments on my chest grenades?” Luke furiously demanded. 

“That’s why I didn’t want you messin’ with them,” Deckard mumbled.

Luke simply stared at the man under him, who was giving him a small, hesitant smile. Shaking his head, Luke gave an exasperated sigh. “It shouldn’t surprise me that you own an ugly christmas sweater that has grenades on it.”

Deckard’s smile just grew. 

**… Five grenades!**

**Four stab wound**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**


	6. Day 6- Eggnog

**On the fifth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

Sitting in a diner, Deckard couldn’t really believe that is was real. He mostly took missions outside of the United States, preferring to stay in the United Kingdom or Europe, and only traveling to Asia when required, or when he was feeling adventurous. But, he rarely come across the water to the States. So, sitting in a classic American diner was a bit strange to him. Honestly, he thought they only existed in older American movies. And much to his surprise, Luke had requested to meet at one.

Deckard had been waiting at least fifteen minutes for the other man, casually sipping at an ice tea, not trusting the establishment to make a decent cup of tea. All around him, the diner was covered in Christmas decorations, almost turning the place into a Christmas wonderland. 

_ Bloody Americans, and not knowing how to brew a good cuppa _ , Deckard thought to himself. 

Hearing the chime of the door’s bell, Deckard looked up, just like every other time it chimed for the last few minutes. Luckily, this time, Luke had actually arrived. Deckard gave a short wave to him and tracked his movement through the restaurant as he stopped to greet several of the servers. Finally, he arrived at the booth Deckard had chosen, and slid into the seat opposite Deckard. 

“About time, Hercules,” Deckard said dryly and sent the man a small glare. 

“Sorry, lost track of time at the gym,” Luke shrugged nonchalantly. “So, what’d you want?”

“I need help on a mission,” Deckard said shortly.

“Why me? Don’t you have other assassin buddies you could ask?” Luke asked, leaning back in the plush seat and crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised skeptically.

“Most of ‘em are busy.”

“What about your brother or sister?”

“Hatts convinced Oh to help her on a mission from MI-6.”

“So, what? I’m your last resort or something?”

“Not exactly,” Deckard said slowly. 

“All right. Humor me,” Luke smirked. “Who’s your last resort?”  
“An assassin ‘buddy’ that I have who wears a clown nose when killin’ people,” Deckard admitted.

He watched Luke’s face carefully as it stayed stoically impassive, the afternoon sun glinting off the sharp features of his face. After a moment, his nose crumpled as he gave an amused snort. He smiled wide at Deckard, his naturally cheery expression finally overcoming the professional persona he had given Deckard moments before. 

“Are you saying you trust my skills over an insane assassin?”  
“Not really,” Deckard smirked back. “But at least you know how to dress yourself properly.”

“And we can’t be having you go do missions with people who don’t wear turtlenecks daily, now can we?” Luke laughed. “I’m not saying I’m in, but tell me about the mission.”

~~~

After a meal at the diner, a short flight to the mountains of Colorado, and three hours of a stake out on a military base suspected of going rogue, Deckard was regretting asking Luke Hobbs to help him on the mission. The man was talkative and seemed to be able to pull Deckard into any inane subject he could think of. And then there was the touching.

Deckard had to admit, he had never thought Luke would be a casual touchy-feely type of guy. Somehow, even though they were sitting stationary in a car, Luke found some way to touch him. Either brushing his hand, laying a hand on his shoulder, or even nudging him fully with his body. And every single time Luke would retreat, the cold of the mountains seemed even colder to Deckard when the other man’s heat disappeared. 

And the worst part was that Deckard didn’t know how much longer the stake out would take. They had only been there a short time, hidden in the trees, sitting in a black SUV, waiting for something to happen. 

“Tell me again why I’m sitting out in the middle of nowhere, freezing my balls off,” Luke complained. 

“Didn’t know you could feel cold in something you don’t have,” Deckard remarked, throwing a smirk Luke’s way.

“Very funny, princess. But we both know I have more balls than anyone you could ever think of,” Luke snipped back. 

“That doesn’t even make sense, you-” Deckard started.

“Wait,” Luke said quietly as he looked through the darkness at the base. “What was that?”

Deckard brought his night vision binoculars up and saw a group of soldiers drunkenly pushing and shoving each other as they made their way into the base. One looked so inebriated, two of his friends were holding him up, basically dragging him. 

“That who you Yanks trust with large amounts of weaponry?” Deckard asked, passing the binoculars over to Luke. He took them, and after watching the group, he let out a curse. He threw the binoculars back at Deckard, who easily caught them.

“Those idiots are going to do something stupid, I just know it,” Luke announced. Hastily, he threw open the door and stepped out in the cold air. 

“Hobbs!” Deckard hissed out like an angry cat. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“I’m just going to take a look around. Make sure those idiots don’t go pushing any big, red buttons,” Luke told him, leaning his head back into the car. “Just keep the car running-- I won’t be long.”

“You better not be,” Deckard mumbled to himself as Luke closed the door. Silence took Luke’s place as Deckard nervously kept the com link open, just in case. 

_ Why am I nervous? _ He asked himself. He and Luke had done dozens of missions together, and Deckard had never once thought Luke couldn’t handle himself. But, something about the group of drunken soldiers made the hairs on the back of Deckard’s neck stand on end. He just knew something was going to go wrong. 

Suddenly, Deckard’s earpiece came alive with static.

“Well, it seems like someone is enjoying their Christmas cheer too much,” Luke’s whispering voice came through.

“What?”

“There has to be at least five empty bottles of eggnog out here,” Luke explained. 

“Where’s ‘here’?”

“I’m in the guards’ security room.”

“Shit.”

“Yep. I can see why the senator that hired you thought this base was out of control,” Luke commented. 

“That should be enough evidence for the senator then. They just wanted proof of negligence,” Deckard responded. “Time to get out of there.”

“Don’t go getting your panties in a twist, princess. I’m comin’,” Luke huffed. They were both silent as Deckard assumed Luke was carefully making his way out of the base. Until, “Shit!”

“What? What’s going on?” Deckard demanded over the com. But the only response he heard was distant shouting and a gunshot through the earpiece. “Hobbs!”

“Just a bunch of drunk idiots with guns!” Luke’s breathing sounded slightly labored, no doubt from running from said idiots. “Hey, Deckard?”

“Yes?” Deckard didn’t like the tone in Luke’s voice.

“You know how I said I didn’t want them pushing big, red buttons?”  
“Yes,” Deckard answered and felt a knot forming in his stomach.

“Well, they’re pushing one.”

“Hobbs! Get out of there!” Deckard shouted and felt a bolt of panic and fear go through his heart. 

“What the hell do you think I’m going? Having a tea party!?” Luke yelled back. “I’m almost back to the car.”

And just like that, the passenger door flew open, and Luke tumbled into the seat. Before he could even close the door again, Deckard threw the SUV into drive and was going. 

“What the hell is coming after us, Hobbs?” Deckard hissed out, as he took a sharp turn and could see snow spraying behind them. 

“Nothin’ much. Just six missiles,” Luke panted. His eyes were large as he watched Decakrd take every corner at a breakneck speed, forcing the car to stay on two wheels for much longer than should have been possible. 

“Six missiles?!” Deckard yelped. “How do you manage to piss people off this much?”

“I didn’t do anything! If you want to go blaming someone, blame all their fucking eggnog!”

“Oh no! I’m blaming you, you bastard!” Deckard screamed back. 

They were about half way down the mountain when they heard the first explosion. From the sound of it, it had gone off at the top of the mountain. But after a few seconds, another explosion followed it, closer to them. 

Stepping on the pedal, Deckard urged the SUV to go faster as he heard two more explosions, and saw the last one in the rear view mirror. 

“We’re not going to make it!” Luke gasped out, clutching the dashboard.

“Like hell we’re not,” Deckard growled and threw the car into a different gear. They just made it out of the blast zone of the next missile, but the debris from it went through the SUV’s back window, smashing it to pieces. Keeping his eyes on the road, Deckard whispered to himself, “Only one more.”

They were almost at the bottom of the mountain now, but to Luke and Deckard, it still felt like miles away. Deckard knew the next missile was coming down on them, and knew that unless he did something, they would be blown to smithereens. Ahead of them, the road took another sharp turn, but there was no time for Deckard to take it. 

“Hold on!” He shouted to Luke. 

He pressed the pedal down as much as he could as he drove them straight through the guard rail and off the mountain. The last missile went down just as the car went flying, the blast pushing the car further into the air. 

It felt like a lifetime before the SUV came crashing down, luckily in a clearing of trees and not on top of them. 

Letting out the breath he had been holding, Deckard felt his heart beating a mile a minute and could barely hear himself think over the rushing of blood in his ears. 

“You crazy bastard,” Luke breathed out next to him. 

Turning his head, Deckard could see Luke still stiffly holding onto the dashboard with one hand. But, looking down, and just realizing it, Deckard saw that Luke was clutching his hand, that was still gripping the steering wheel. Looking at the hand, Deckard felt the heat of the other man seeping into him, under his skin, and almost travel to his heart. 

Smiling, Deckard let go of the steering wheel and grabbed Luke’s hand back. Luke finally stopped staring ahead, and looked down at their hands instead. They looked at each other for a few moments, before Luke smiled back and squeezed Deckard’s hand. 

**… Six missiles incoming**

**Five Grenades!**

**Four stab wounds**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**


	7. Day 7- Hot Chocolate

**On the seventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

Deckard leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. He was sitting in one of the many conference rooms in one of the many facilities Mr. Nobody had scattered around the world. In front of him were seven different monitors, all showing different images around a casino that the team was infiltrating. An American businessman was trying to sell government secrets to the highest bidder and was conducting his auction at a casino in Venice, thus why he was watching rich Italians blowing thousands of dollars an hour. 

The team had spent several days trying to find ways into the casino and not alert their target to their presence. Unfortunately, the only ones who had even been to Italy before were Deckard and Luke, both of whom the target had seen because of a botched attempt to catch him in the States. So, during those few days, it was a mad scramble for Deckard to teach the group Italian, how to play poker and black jack, and how to be a spy.

When he had joined the team, Deckard hadn’t realized how untrained they were. Even though they all had bits of experience, they were nowhere near the level he was at being a spy. And because he couldn’t be there to guide them, Deckard had eventually called his brother to take his place in keeping the team’s cover. 

But to be honest, Deckard had tried calling up Hattie first, but she had been doing her own mission in Egypt, leaving Deckard to call Owen. Who also wasn’t trained to be a traditional spy. There was a reason why Hattie and Deckard had gone for MI-6 and Owen had stuck strictly with the military. 

Letting out a sigh, Deckard leaned forward and watched the screens, listening to the com link. Currently, Owen was performing a song in the lounge and keeping an eye out for any of the people looking to buy government secrets. While at the opposite side of the main room, Dom and Brian were acting as security and guarding the elevators to the upper floors. At one of the poker tables, Roman was pretending to be high roller who didn’t understand how betting hundreds of dollars at once was a bad idea. At the bar, Tej was showing off his surprising skills at bartending. On a different floor, Letty and Ramsey were dressed as maids as they were planting bugs in their target’s room. 

Deckard was so focused on the cameras, he didn’t hear the door to the conference room open. It wasn’t until he felt a hand land heavily on his shoulder that he noticed Luke was in the room.

“Look at you. Acting like a mother cat trying to keep her kittens in line,” Luke smirked down at him. 

Deckard glared up at him. “You’d be doing the same if you’d been presented with seven untrained agents and told to a mission with them.”

“Very true. But I do know that even if things go tits up, the team will find a way to improvise,” Luke assured.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Deckard mumbled and rubbed his eyes again. “Improvisation in this kind of work can get someone killed.”

“Don’t worry so much,” Luke said and squeezed Deckard’s shoulder. “When was the last time you slept? You’re starting to look like death warmed over.”

“There wasn’t enough time to sleep while correcting Letty and Dom’s Italian and teaching Roman how to play poker,” Deckard huffed. 

“Then how about you go get some shut-eye and I’ll keep watch?”  
“Oh, I don’t think so, twinkletoes. If I know my brother, he’ll know when I’m no longer watching and will pull the stupidest stunt he can think of.”

“Fine. Let me go get you a coffee at least.”

“I don’t drink that crap,” Deckard scrunched up his nose in disgust.

“You’re a walking British stereotype, you know that?” Luke said, unimpressed.

“There’s nothing wrong with liking a good cuppa,” Deckard mumbled under his breath. 

“Well, last time I tried making you tea, you yelled at me, so I’m not going to try again.”

“I wouldn’t have yelled if you hadn’t brewed it so weak.”

“And this is why I’m not making you tea ever again,” Luke responded and rolled his eyes. He squeezed Deckard’s shoulder again before turning away. “Just keep watching them, I’ll be back with something.”

“It better not be any bloody coffee, you dense American!” Deckard called out as he watched the door close.

Slouching in the chair, Deckard watched the team, who were still in the same spots. They would be doing the same things for the next hour, only Letty and Ramsey moving around to other rooms to find any dirt on the buyers. Closing his eyes for a moment, Deckard knew nothing exciting would be happening until later that night.

He jerked awake when he felt someone shaking him.

“Here. This might help,” Luke laughed, handing him a large mug.

Taking the mug, Deckard peered inside and found a huge mound of whipped cream. Raising an eyebrow, Deckard looked back at Luke, who was pulling a chair up next to Deckard’s. 

“Hot chocolate?”

“Knowing your siblings, I figured you’d have a sweet tooth as well,” Luke shrugged as he sat down, their chairs shoved together.

Glancing at the other man from the corner of his eye, Deckard took a hesitant sip. Luke was right: Deckard did have a sweet tooth just like Owen and Hattie, and the hot chocolate was perfect. 

“At least you can make this,” Deckard joked. 

“Oh please. I bet you can’t make a decent pot of coffee if you wanted to,” Luke teased right back. 

“Like I would ever want to,” Deckard muttered into his hot chocolate. 

They sat together, letting a calm, comfortable silence wash over them as they watched the rest of the team continue to keep their acts up. Once Deckard had finished his hot chocolate, he set the mug down and once again leaned back in his chair. The warmth of the drink settled into him and made him feel boneless. Without realizing it, his eyelids were starting to droop again, and after several minutes of trying to fight off sleep, his eyes finally fell shut. 

He was awoken some time later by a quiet voice in his ear. Blinking his eyes rapidly, Deckard stared at the screens, which were at an angle. Under his head, he could feel something warm taking his weight. 

“Hey, you awake? The target is meeting with the buyers right now,” Luke whispered above him. 

Lifting his head, Deckard realized that he had fallen asleep, and at one point his head had landed on Luke’s shoulder. Clearing his throat, Deckard felt his cheeks turning red. 

“Sorry, mate,” Deckard coughed and scooted his chair away from Luke’s.

“You’re fine. You looked like you needed the sleep,” Luke responded, a soft smile on his lips. 

If it was possible, Deckard flushed even harder at Luke’s gentle gaze. Willing his blush way, Deckard opened the com link.

“Positions, everyone.”

**… Seven criminals a-stealing**

**Six missiles incoming**

**Five grenades!**

**Four stab wounds**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**


	8. Day 8: Ice sculptures

**On the eighth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

“GO!”

Luke threw his car into drive, slamming his foot on the gas pedal and was off. Next to him, he could hear the cacophony coming from the eight cars that were around him. He glanced over to the car on his right, and could see a glimpse of Deckard smiling like a maniac as he pulled in front of Luke and three other racers. 

“Shaw! Don’t get to excited! We aren’t actually trying to win!” Luke shouted into his earpiece.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t make this more interesting!” Deckard shouted back. 

“Amen to that, brother,” Dom laughed.

“I know losing is an odd concept to you two, when it comes to racing. But I don’t want to see either of your asses crossing that finish line before Lane,” Luke warned. 

“I’ll keep on him, but don’t you worry your little head, Hobbs. He’ll be getting what he deserves,” Deckard responded. 

Luke could only let out a quiet sigh of exasperation. There was no keeping those down when it came to fast cars and street races. But for their mission, they would need to keep it reined in. They were trying to get in the good graces of a drug lord, Simon Lane, and since the man loved street racing, it was a perfect opportunity to put their plan into action. The only thing making the task difficult was that Lane was a sore loser, meaning they needed to make sure he won the race. 

So, they had stacked the odds in his favor: in the group of racers were two of Lane’s men and the three of them. And by the glint Luke saw in both Deckard and Dom’s eyes, he was guessing the last three racers weren’t going to last long. 

Focusing on the race, Luke could see that Lane was right behind Deckard, with Dom and Luke himself trailing after the two. Behind him, he could see one of Lane’s men coming after him. The henchman’s car was painted like a shark, even with an added fin to the top of the car. And Luke couldn’t help an eye roll at the gaudiness even though the henchman’s nickname was Shark. 

“How’s it going up there, Shaw?” Luke asked as he took a sharp turn, barely dodging a minivan.

“The bastard is going as slow as a gran. No wonder he has to stack the race,” Deckard’s voice piped through the earpiece. 

“Just don’t-” Luke started, but was sent crashing into the steering wheel as Shark came up behind him and rammed his car from behind. “Fuck!”

“Hobbs?!” Deckard shouted.

“What’s going on back there?” Dom hissed.

“Looks like Lane’s men have their own plan to make their boss win,” Luke grunted as he pushed the gas pedal harder. In the rearview mirror, Luke could see that the other car was almost on top of him and was matching his speed whenever Luke would accelerate. 

“I’m trying to let you guys win, so stop messing with me, you punk,” Luke growled to himself. Slowing slightly, Luke allowed one of the independent racers to pass him. Unfortunately, the bait didn’t take because Shark kept on Luke.

Suddenly, a burst of movement caught Luke’s attention. Coming in fast behind Shark was Lane’s other man, Palp. He seemed to be weaving through the traffic with ease, almost like he knew where everything was at once. Almost too quickly, he was next to Luke. Bracing himself, Luke expected for Palp to try to ram him as well. Instead, the henchman pulled in front of him, and Shark took his place next to Luke’s car. 

“What are you two planning?” Luke whispered. 

He soon got his answer as he saw a flap on Palp’s trunk flip open. Uncomprehending, Luke could only stare at the other car. He wasn’t expecting for his own car to jerk, and the steering wheel to fling his hands off. The car went wild as he tried to control it, but nothing he did righted the car’s path. Slamming on the brakes, Luke could hear a horrendous squealing noise from his tires as the car went spinning into some fence. 

Luke could feel the impact vibrate his whole body as the car finally came to a stop. Blinking the black spots from his vision, Luke could see Shark and Palp racing away into the distance. 

“Hobbs! What happened?” Dom’s voice filled the silence.

“Lane’s men didn’t want anymore competition,” Luke sighed. “It’s up to you two.”

“Bloody wankers,” Deckard hissed angrily. 

“Better me than one of you two,” Luke reassured. He knew that compared to Deckard and Dom, he wasn’t anything special when it came to racing. Put him in a military vehicle and he could catch anybody, but put him in a race car, and you might have a problem.

“We’ll make sure to come pick you up,” Dom told him.

“Don’t worry about me. Just stick to the plan,” Luke grunted. The driver’s side door was jammed shut. Tensing, Luke was able to twist around in the confined space and angle his foot against the door. Bringing his foot back, he kicked the door several times before it finally came loose with a groan. 

Stumbling out, Luke took in his surroundings: his car had gone straight through a fence, and was currently sitting halfway on the sidewalk and in a park. Luckily, the abundant street lamps illuminated everything, including the wreck his car had become. There were scratches and dents from where Shark had rammed into his bumper, while all the tires had gone flat, destroying the rims.

“Asshole dropped nails,” Luke fumed to himself. Accepting his fate, Luke sent his location to the team, telling them he would be waiting in the park. 

Stepping around the ruined cast iron fence, Luke walked further into the park, letting the lamps guide him. Soon, he saw a path that was lit up with Christmas lights wrapped around the trees. Shrugging, Luke went down the path, hearing a dull murmur of people talking up ahead. 

At the end of the path was a clearing near another entrance to the park. In the middle, people were milling around elaborate ice sculptures that had colorful lights shining through them. Joining the crowd, Luke couldn’t help the sense of awe that came over him; the sculptures were almost life-like. One sculpture was of a group of mermaids, who were piled on top of each other, all reaching up to the sky, almost as if pining for something. While another sculpture showed a mother reading to her children, who sat at her feet and clutching at her dress. 

However, it was one sculpture in particular that caught Luke’s attention. At the edge of the clearing, and not receiving as much attention as the rest, stood a sculpture of a bear. Stepping away from the crowd, and closer to the sculpture, Luke could see that the bear was sitting on its rump, while it was pawing at something on its shoulder. Peering at it, Luke could see that on top of the bear’s shoulders was a cat, who was perched precariously and swatting back at the bear’s paw. 

Even though the two animals looked to be annoyed with each other, the artist had been able to capture how at ease both of them were. The cat’s eyes were wide with curiosity and its ears perked up in clear interest. While the bear looked to be carefully sitting still, so as not to cause the cat to fall off its perch. 

Luke didn’t know how long he had been analyzing the sculpture, but he had a feeling that it had been too long when he heard a familiar huff of frustration close to him. Looking away from the bear and cat, Luke saw Deckard stomping towards him. He was shivering and rubbing his arms.

“You couldn’t’ve waited in a cafe or something?” He glared at Luke.

“Wanted to enjoy the sights,” Luke said absently, too focused on Deckard’s shivering. “And why aren’t you wearing a hat or gloves?”

“Didn’t think I’d be searching for your dump arse in the freezing cold,” Deckard snapped back.

“For the love of…here,” Luke rolled his eyes. Taking his own hat off, he shoved it on top of Deckard’s head even though the man tried to slap his hands away. Adjusting the hat over the smaller man’s ears, Luke couldn’t help but smile. “There. Now nobody will see your elf ears.”

“Bugger off, you arse,” Deckard grumbled, but left the hat on. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Sounds good to me,” Luke nodded. Casting one more glance at the sculpture, he followed Deckard out of the park.

Once they were on the sidewalk, Luke looked over at Deckard, seeing that his shivering had subsided. “So, how’d the race go?”  
“Let Toretto get second. Lane got first, obviously.”

“Aw, look at you being nice,” Luke teased. 

“Like hell I was being nice,” Deckard huffed. “I just didn’t want to have to spend time with that weasel nosed ba- Ah!”

Reacting swiftly, Luke just barely caught Deckard as the other man slipped on the icy sidewalk. Pulling Deckard to his feet, Luke kept his arm wrapped securely around his waist as he found his balance. “You ok?”

“Yeah. I’m fine,” Deckard said almost breathlessly.

“Then let’s get you to the car before you go breaking your neck,” Luke said and pulled Deckard to his side, keeping the man there so he wouldn’t fall again. 

“A small fall wouldn’t kill me,” Deckard mumbled.

“Just keep telling yourself that,” Luke chuckled and squeezed Deckard’s hip.

**… Eight racers a-racing**

**Seven criminals a-stealing**

**Six missiles incoming**

**Five grenades!**

**Four stab wounds**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bear and cat sculptures are references to sghg181's Shobbs fanart, where they portray Luke as a bear and Deckard as a cat. If you haven't seen their stuff, check them out! It's super cute!


	9. Day 9- Gingerbread

**On the ninth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

“Hobbs! Report!” Little Nobody anxiously demanded over the com link. 

“I’m fine. Heading to the rendezvous point as we speak,” Luke responded calmly. 

Standing on top of the building he had been sniping on, Luke could see the whole shipping yard they had tracked their target to. However, it seemed like the target had known they would be coming, because from where Luke’s vantage point, he could see the eight buildings that had been blown up, right on top of the team. 

Luke stood still, looking over the debris and rubble where the buildings had been, hoping beyond hope that everyone on the team had made. Listening, Little Nobody called out to everyone, receiving a confirmation from almost everyone on the team, except:

“Shaw! Report!”

“Alive and kicking,” Shaw said. And Luke could feel his body relax slightly from just hearing the other man’s voice. Raising his binoculars to his face, Luke tried to track the team’s cars, but could only spot Roman’s and Brian’s. They were carefully making their way around the collapsed buildings and towards the others who couldn’t get around the wreckage. 

Everything was still, until a ninth cracking boom echoed across the shipyard. Whipping his head towards the sound, Luke was just in time to see explosion after explosion engulf a ninth building. 

“Shit! I-” Deckard shouted into the com link, the explosions almost masking his voice.

“Shaw!” Luke screamed. Frantically, he tried to see where the man was through his binoculars, but it was impossible. He had no idea where Deckard had been in association with the currently collapsing building. 

“Shaw! Are you all right?” Little Nobody demanded. 

There was no response. 

Luke felt his heart stop.

“I’m going in,” he barked into the com link and rushed towards the door leading back down into the building he had been standing on top of. 

“Hobbs, it’s too dangerous! You need to wait until the debris settles,” Little Nobody begged, his voice on the edge of panic.

“I don’t care! I’m getting him out,” Luke growled into the com and ignored the frantic yelling from the rest of the team as he rushed down the stairs, almost out of the building by then. 

He ran into the exit door, slamming it open so hard, he could hear a sharp crack as it flew into the wall next to it. Staying in his full blown sprint, Luke turned on his heel and towards the last building to fall. It was almost a quarter of a mile away, but that didn’t stop him from running the whole time. 

_ Shit, shit! Please be ok. For the love of god, please be ok! _ Luke chanted to himself, as fear gripped his heart. Images of Deckard completely crushed under rubble kept springing into Luke’s mind, and forcing him to increase his speed even more. 

He was almost to the where the last building was, when a weak voice came over the com link.

“Anyone there…?” Deckard coughed out.

The link exploded with everyone talking over each other, all demanding confirmation that Deckard was alive. 

“Everyone, shut up!” Luke shouted over the com. “Deckard! Where are you?”

“Not sure,” he responded, his voice growing weaker. 

“Deckard, I need you to stay awake. I’m here. I can help get you out,” Luke said firmly. “Tell me what you can see.”

What felt like hours-- but later Luke discovered took no more than half an hour-- Luke and Deckard talked quietly to each other. Gently, Luke was able to coax as many details as he could from Deckard, while also making sure the other man was awake. Slowly, Luke was able to find a rough idea of where Deckard was under the rubble. The rest of the team had shown up at some point, and helped search through the rubble, but ultimately they went unnoticed by Luke. All of his attention was on Deckard’s labored breathing and breathy voice. 

“Stop!” Deckard panted out suddenly. Freezing, Luke waited. “I can see sunlight!”

And just like that, Luke was picking up debris at an almost inhuman speed, desperately trying to find any trace of Deckard. He nearly let out a sob when a hand finally wiggled itself up from the debris and reaching out towards safety. Luke fell to his knees as he took the hand in his, and used the other to pull the remaining bits of rock off Deckard. 

In just a matter of minutes, the team had Deckard unearthed. Luke couldn’t believe his eyes: while Deckard was covered in dust, and still coughing from where it had gotten into his lungs, he looked relatively fine. The only injury Luke could obviously see was the cut on the side of Deckard’s head.

Without even thinking, Luke pulled on Deckard’s hand and maneuvered the smaller man until he was practically in Luke’s lap and head resting on Luke’s shoulder. With a shaky hand, Luke cupped Deckard’s face, and brushed the dust off Deckard’s cheek with his thumb.

“Please never do that again,” he whispered, his voice nearly breaking.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Deckard mumbled back before passing out. Clutching Deckard to his chest, Luke knew he was going to be just fine. 

~~~

Snapping his head up three days later, Luke saw Deckard slowly making his way towards the kitchen, having to hold onto the wall for support. 

“Woah, there,” Luke warned. Quickly, he was out of his seat at the kitchen counter and at Deckard’s side. “You shouldn’t be up yet.”

“I can do what I want,” Deckard said, but there was no heat in his voice. He simply sounded tired. 

Not wanting to argue, Luke gently put his hand on the small of Deckard’s back and led him into the kitchen.

“Sam, you remember Deckard, right?” Luke said as he helped the other man into a seat next to Sam. 

“Of course! You helped save the world with my dad!” Sam excitedly said, almost vibrating. 

“That I did. Although, I would say that he helped me,” Deckard chuckled, throwing Luke a smirk. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” Luke warned, but his threat lost its effect with the smile he had on his face. 

“Wouldn’t imagine it,” Deckard smiled back. Looking around, his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Are you trying to recreate our last mission with gingerbread?”

All over the kitchen counter were broken pieces of gingerbread, a few gingerbread houses half made, and other pieces with frosting on them to look like fire.

“Well, Sam volunteered to make gingerbread houses for her class, but then decided that it needed a theme,” Luke started and sent an amused look in Sam’s direction, who’s smile showed almost all her teeth. “So, she decided on Godzilla.”

“It’s going to be so awesome!” Sam cheerfully said. “I can’t wait to see everyone’s face!”

“It definitely is something different,” Deckard commented. “But is it the Japanese Godzilla or the American?”

“There’s a difference?” Sam asked, her eyes huge with curiosity.

“Is there a difference? Of course there is!” Deckard laughed. “The new Japanese Godzilla has laser coming out of his back.”

Sam gasped. “Dad! Can my Godzilla have lasers too?”

“I don’t see why not,” Luke laughed. “But why do you know so much about Godzilla?”

“Hattie never really got out of her ‘giant monsters destroying cities’ phase,” Deckard shrugged. 

“I’m not really surprised,” Luke said. 

For the rest of the afternoon, the three created worked on the gingerbread city, and Luke couldn’t imagine a better way to spend it. 

**… Nine buildings exploding**

**Eight racers a-racing**

**Seven criminals a-stealing**

**Six missiles incoming**

**Five grenades!**

**Four stab wounds**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**


	10. Day 10- Christmas Decorations

**On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

The airport was crowded to the point Luke was sure that there was going to be a fire hazard. Gently as possible, he navigated through the crowds, thankful that he was much taller than most, and could see over everyone else to spot Hattie.

Jumping out of the way of large family, Luke finally made it to her, his patience frayed thin. 

“And here I thought the LAX was horrible,” he said in lieu of a greeting. 

“Lots of people would prefer flying than driving here,” Hattie shrugged and led the way outside to her waiting car. 

“So, what do you and your brother need help with?” Luke asked, once they were in the car.

“Nothing too exciting,” Hattie replied as she effortlessly made her way out of the airport parking lot and into traffic. “Mum got into it with the local mafia. Now they put a hit out on me and my brother, so we decided to take the fight to them first.”

“And where’s you mom?”

“Not completely sure. India maybe?”

Luke stared at Hattie. She was wearing a thick sweater and a grey beanie, and looked way too casual for someone talking about a hit being put on her. After a minute of silence, she final glanced away from the road and sent Luke a confused look. 

“What?”

“Let me get this right,” Luke started to rub his temples. “Your mom pisses off the mafia. The mafia puts a hit out on her children. And then she runs off to India, leaving you guys to fend for yourselves?”

“This isn’t the first time,” Hattie said, confusion coloring her voice. “We’re able to take care of ourselves. Mum doesn’t need to protect us.”

“I get that,” Luke sighed. “But, it just seems a little…”

“Unmotherly?”

“Yeah.”

“Mum’s always been there for us. She’s not your stereotypical mum, but she loves us and trusts in our abilities,” Hattie explained. She sounded far too casual about the situation in Luke’s opinion. On the other hand, Luke knew he didn’t truly know all that much about the Shaw family, so maybe being hunted down by the mafia really was common place for them.

“Wait. Do you even need help? Sounds like you have it covered,” Luke asked and could feel a sense of dread. “You don’t need me here. Why did you ask me to come?”

“Fine. You’re right,” Hattie admitted. And it seemed like the fight went out of her as her whole body slumped. “Deck’s been mopey lately. Usually he’s in a good mood around this time of year, but lately he’s been melancholy.”

“And you want me to do what?” Luke narrowed his eyes at her.

“Just stay for a few days. He seemed happy when he came back from your last mission.”

“He survived getting crushed by a building. I would think he would be happy.”

“I mean,” Hattie emphasized. “He seemed to have enjoyed his time with you and your daughter.”

“And? I don’t understand what you’re saying.”

“Obviously,” she muttered under her breath. 

“Hey!” Luke glared. “I just don’t see why it’s my problem that your brother is being a mopey idiot.”

The only response he received was an eye roll. Luke was about to continue, but Hattie was pulling off the street and parking. Getting out of the car, Luke looked around.

“Uh, Hattie? Is your brother homeless?”

“What?” She looked at him like he had grown two heads.

“We’re at a park. Does he live here?”

“For the love of…” Hattie said exasperatedly. “We’re here to do some Christmas shopping. There’s a Christmas market not too far away.”

“But I thought we were going straight to your brother’s?”

“No. We’re currently banned from his place until he’s done decorating.”

“Why?” Luke asked, not understanding how everything Hattie said kept confusing him further and further.

“Says we’d just get in the way,” Hattie shrugged and ignored the odd look he was sending her. “Now come on, I need help buying a present for one of my coworkers. She’s always a pain to buy for.”

“For the record, I have no idea what is going on anymore,” Luke responded, but followed after Hattie anyway.

“You get used to it,” a voice said next to him.

Jerking forward in surprise, Luke whipped his head towards the person who snuck up behind him. Standing there with a smug smirk on his face, was Owen Shaw. He was dressed similarly to Hattie with a thick blue sweater, but was wearing white earmuffs with cat ears on top of them. 

“Why the hell are you here?” Luke grunted, glaring at the other man, who’s smirk grew wider.

“Enjoying the market,” he said simply and gestured down to the small tray of fries he was holding. “They usually have the best food.”

“What the bloody hell did you put on those chips?” Hattie demanded, her disgust obvious as she scrunched up her nose. 

“What? I usually eat them like this,” Owen said defensively. 

“Doused in motor oil?” Luke joked.

“It’s only ketchup and barbecue sauce,” Owen glared and held his fries away from the other two.

“And what’s up with the earmuffs?” Luke gestured to the top Owen’s head. 

“They were a present from Mum.”

“She thought they were cute?” Luke deadpanned.

“Yeah,” Owen said slowly. “Why?”

“Nothing. They look great on you,” Luke answered sarcastically.

For the next hour, Luke and the siblings wandered around the market, making comments about the countless stalls of food and homemade goods being sold at them. Several times, Owen would disappear and reappear with a different food item, and even brought a churro back for Hattie at one point.

Spending the afternoon with the two Shaws was almost surreal for Luke. To see two dangerous people so relaxed and comfortable in his presence was a new phenomenon to him. He had fought both of them and knew just how much damage they could do to him and all the stalls around them. But, watching as Hattie stole the cat earmuffs off Owen’s head without him noticing, Luke couldn’t wrap his head around how he ever saw either of them as a threat. 

They were about halfway through their second lap around the market when Hattie stopped suddenly, looking down at her phone. 

“Deck says we can come back to his flat,” she said, but her eyebrows were furrowed as she reread the text. 

“What?” Owen asked and looked over her shoulder. After reading the message, his face mirrored Hattie’s.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asked, not liking the way both siblings were standing perfectly still with looks of confusion.

“Well, the text says: ‘you better come back’. Not that he’s done with the decorations,” Hattie explained. “Do you think something happened?”

“Well you did say that the mafia was after you guys,” Luke mentioned. 

“Oh. Those were the guys that attacked me earlier?” Owen asked.

“When did you get attacked?” Hattie asked, eyes wide with shock.

“Right before I met up with you two,” he replied casually.

“You got jumped by some random people and then went and bought food?” Luke nearly shouted in surprise.

“Yes?” Owen sheepishly glanced between Luke’s look of disappointment and Hattie trying to stifle her giggles. 

“You know what,” Luke finally said, shaking his head. “Let’s just go check up on Deckard, ok?”

~~~

It only took ten minutes before they were in front of Deckard’s apartment, Hattie leading the way, until a noise caught Luke’s attention. It sounded like a hollow knocking, and set alarm bells off in Luke’s head. Quietly, he tapped Hattie’s shoulder, catching both her and Owen’s attention. Bringing a finger to his lips, Luke slowly drew his gun and ushered the other two behind him. Not noticing their twin looks of surprise, Luke crept towards the door, that he noticed was slightly ajar. 

Looking back at the other two, he saw that Hattie had her own issued gun out, while Owen had a knife in each hand. Nodding, Luke turned back to the door before placing his foot flat against it and shoving it open. Storming into the apartment, he saw a scene he never imagined he would ever witness in a hundred years.

All around the living room were unconscious bodies scattered amongst upturned boxes of Christmas decorations. On a few of the bodies were shattered Christmas tree ornaments, while another had tinsel wrapped around it, and in the corner, a body was tangled in a half decorated Christmas tree. At the epicenter of the chaos, stood Deckard, who was fighting the last attacker off.

Well, more accurately, Deckard was choking the last attacker, who Deckard had pulled to his chest and had Christmas light pulled taut around their throat. Hearing the door open further, Deckard jerked his head up to stare at the three standing in the doorway. All the while, his grip on his attacker didn’t loosen as he stared like a deer in headlights. 

“I can explain?” He joked, a small smile on his lips. 

Luke stood frozen to the spot, gun still pointed straight ahead. Behind him, he could hear Hattie and Owen laughing. In Deckard’s arms, the attacker finally went limp, and Deckard let him drop to the floor with a thud. 

“What the fuck happened?” Luke finally found his voice. Putting his gun away, he entered the apartment further and counted ten attackers in total scattered across the room. 

“I’m guessing they’re part of the mafia,” Hattie commented as she pulled her phone out and dialed a number. “I’ll call the agency to come pick them up.”

“And you accuse us of breaking your Christmas decorations,” Owen called out to Deckard as he pulled the body out of the tree.

“And I still hold to that,” Deckard huffed, taking in the damage he had done by himself. Seeing the nearly forlorn look on his face, Luke felt his heart twist. 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we can salvage most of it,” Luke assured, walking up to Deckard. 

The smaller man looked up at him, eyes searching Luke’s. Confidently, Luke looked back, willing the other man to believe him. 

“As long as we keep those two out of the way,” Deckard smirk and gestured to his siblings. 

“I fully agree with that,” Luke smiled, and felt his heart twist in a different way at the large smile Deckard gave him in return. 

**… Ten assassins a-killing**

**Nine buildings exploding**

**Eight racers a-racing**

**Seven criminals a-stealing**

**Six missiles incoming**

**Five grenades!**

**Four stab wounds**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you were wondering, I do own the same pair of earmuffs that Owen is wearing


	11. Day 11- Caroling

**On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

_ “Oh, come all ye faithful. Oh, come all ye faithful…” _ Filled the air, drowning out almost every other sound in the small courtyard. Standing off to the side, Luke tried to push down the urge to cover his ears as the fifty or so people continued to sing at the top of their lungs. The crowd was all dressed warmly, but festively in all green and red. 

Similarly dressed, Luke was watching the carolers practicing, getting ready for their parade through a small village north of London. 

_ How do I always end up in these situations? _ Luke asked himself as he tucked his hands under his arms, trying to keep all the warmth he could. Unlike London, the village had actually received snow and had a chill in the air at the moment. 

Scanning the crowd, Luke was able to pick out a certain earmuffed head weaving through the crowd. It seemed as though Owen was in his element as he went through the crowd, continuously singing and helping others to find the right pitch. Why Owen was there was a mystery to Luke.

After he had arrived in London and helped the Shaws with their little mafia problem, Hattie had invited him to help on a mission for MI-6. There had been rumors of a cult forming through the countryside north of London, and they wanted to snuff it out before anyone was hurt. So, a team of agents was sent out to one of the larger villages, to find information. They had already been there a week, but had found nothing, until they discovered there was an annual caroling parade that went through the whole town. Taking the chance to observe the whole village at once, the agents had requested backup, allowing Hattie to invite Luke and her brothers. 

Well, Luke was guessing at that part. He was pretty sure that Deckard’s criminal record had been wiped by MI-6, but Owen was still a wanted man. The fact didn’t seem to bother the eleven agents he could see peppered through the crowd though, as they cheerfully patted him on the back and kept drawing him into conversations. 

Shaking his head slightly, Luke mouthed along to the carol and kept an eye on everything. Out of the corner of his eye, Luke could see two people breaking off from the crowd, coming towards him. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he saw Hattie almost dragging Deckard behind her by his wrist. She looked pissed off, while Deckard had an expression mixed with shame and irritation.

Angrily, Hattie released Deckard, almost throwing him into Luke as she did so. 

“I cannot believe you!” She hissed. While she was wearing a brightly colored sweater, it did nothing to hide her anger, as she stood there with her hands curled into shaking fists. “I’m on a mission, and you’re accusing me of getting too chummy with a coworker?”

“I wasn’t saying that!” Deckard hissed back. “All I was saying was that he was getting too handsy!”

“No he wasn’t!”

“Yes he was!”

“Whoa there! What’s going on?” Luke asked and stepped forward to subtly put himself between the pissed off siblings. 

“Deck’s being an overprotective idiot,” Hattie told him, but keeping her glare on Deckard. 

“I’m just looking out for you,” Deckard said back firmly.

“If you want to do that, then don’t ruin my mission with your alpha male bullshit!”

“What!”

The last word was almost shouted, making Luke jump in finally. Deftly, he was next to Deckard and wrapping an arm around his waist and physically pulling him away from Hattie. Both had begun to advance on each other and looking like they were ready to start throwing punches at any moment. Gently, but firmly, Luke tugged at Deckard until they were touching from shoulder to hip. He could feel the heat from the other man seeping into his side, but he could also feel how tense the smaller man was. 

“No matter how entertaining it would be to see you two try to one-up the other in a physical fight, we need to stay focused,” Luke scolded them both. “Hattie, go back. I’ll keep an eye on your brother.”

“Like hell you will!” Deckard spat and tried to turn himself in Luke’s arm, who tightened his grip and kept Deckard still. Luke knew that the other man could easily get out of his grip if he wanted to, but that would require him to pull out a few moves your average caroler wouldn’t know. 

“And you,” Luke started, staring Deckard down. “Need to stop butting your head into your sister’s business.”

“See! Even he thinks you’re being ridiculous,” Hattie huffed to Deckard.

“And you should have known he would act like this,” Luke chided her. “Now, go back. We’ll stay here.”

She gave both of them one last glare before stomping back into the crowd. Luke could feel Deckard take a step after her, but easily pulled him back. “And where do you think you’re going?”  
“I don’t trust that arse,” Deckard grumbled.

“Even so, you know your sister can take care of herself,” Luke calmly told him. He started to rub Deckard’s hip, willing the other man to relax. 

“I know,” Deckard sighed, and Luke could finally feel the tension start to drain out of him. “But, I still don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“Yes, Deckard. We all know you’re a mother hen, but you need to relax sometimes and trust her,” Luke said gently.

Deckard simply grunted in reply and leaned his head on Luke’s shoulder, finally accepting his fate of being stuck to Luke’s side. And knowing the other man, Luke hazard the guess that he would need to keep Deckard there until the mission was over.

They stood there together, sharing each other’s body heat and listening to the carolers. Looking down, Luke peered at Deckard’s face, and found a small smile forming. 

“I never knew your brother was so good at singing,” Luke commented, keeping his voice quiet enough for only Deckard to hear. 

“He took lessons as a kid.”

“Really? I would never have guessed that was something he liked.”

“He’s a dramatic little brat. He likes the attention it gets him,” Deckard joked. 

Luke smiled and could feel the small tremors of Deckard’s chuckling as well. He started to track Owen’s earmuffs again, and was surprised to see them stationary. Squinting, Luke couldn’t help the bark of laughter that left him.

“Looks like Hattie’s not going to have any brothers by the end of the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Looks like Owen’s pulling the same stunt you were,” Luke said casually, watching as Hattie was trying to subtly crush Owen’s foot with her’s. 

“And she thinks I’m bad,” Deckard mumbled. 

“In all fairness, you really are obnoxious,” Luke teased down at him.

“Watch it, Hobbs. I can still throw you through a wall,” Deckard warned, but the upturn of his lips gave him away.

“I’d love to see you try, princess,” Luke smiled at him. 

They stood together for a few more minutes, trading harmless insults. When the crowd finally started to move out to start the parade, Luke kept Deckard glued to his side, loving the way the smaller man fit perfectly. 

**… Eleven spies a-spying**

**Ten assassins a-killing**

**Nine buildings exploding**

**Eight racers a-racing**

**Severn criminals a-stealing**

**Six missiles incoming**

**Five grenades!**

**Four stab wounds**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**


	12. Day 12- Snow Angels

**On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…**

“Dad?”

Taking his eyes off the road, Luke glanced up at Sam through the rearview mirror. She was wearing a Christmas sweater that had a french bulldog wearing a scarf. They were on their way to the annual Christmas party at the O’Connor house, where they would stay the night and spend Christmas day with the team.

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“Is Deckard going to be at the party?”

“Yeah, he is. Why?” Luke asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“You two are really funny together. And you always seem happier after you talk to him,” Sam smiled at him. 

Thinking for a moment, Luke had to admit that over the last few missions, his and Deckard’s relationship had shifted into something less hostile and much more enjoyable. They had finally come together to help each other willingly; in Luke’s opinion, they had actually become friends. 

“I guess I do enjoy seeing him,” Luke admitted to Sam. 

“Then are you going to ask him out?” She asked innocently.

“What?” Luke yelped, and it was only because of his experience of chasing after criminals while under duress that he was able to keep the car from swerving in his surprise. 

“You like him, right? That means you should ask him out!” She said, confident in her logic.

“Sam. Honey,” Luke sighed. “It doesn’t work that way. And besides, he and I are just friends.”

“But, when he was staying with us, it seemed like you two were acting like the couples in those Christmas movies,” Sam said, her face scrunching up in confusion.

“Uh, well,” Luke started and tried to come up with an answer. He wouldn’t admit it, but looking back, she was right. After some point, Deckard had been willing to let Luke penetrate his personal space, which Luke had taken advantage of. During the few days Deckard had been with them, Luke had probably spent most of them next to Deckard: helping the man from room to room, grabbing things off the top shelves, and even helping him prepare dinner. They had weaved around each other effortlessly as Deckard cooked, knowing each other’s movements even off the field. 

“And I like Deckard! I wouldn’t mind if he was your boyfriend,” Sam pointed out. 

Luke couldn’t help the choking sound that escaped him at the word ‘boyfriend’.

~~~

“When’s Hobbs getting here?” Owen asked from where he was sitting at the kitchen island, slowly whittling a carrot with one of his knives. 

“How the bloody hell should I know?” Deckard grunted as he checked the turkey that was still cooking in the oven. Shutting the oven door, he turned back to Owen with narrowed eyes. “And why would you care?”

“I don’t,” Owen said, concentrating on the carrot. “But I kinda guessed that you would.”

“Why would I care?” Deckard asked incredulously.

Owen finally looked up and raised a single eyebrow at Deckard. “Because you two are together?”

“What-- why-- where did you get that idea?” Deckard stuttered out, staring wide-eyed at his little brother.

“Well, you two have done a shit ton of missions together, and last week during Hatts’ MI-6 mission, you two were literally attached to the hip,” Owen explained. 

“He’s just a touchy-feely person. Doesn’t mean we’re together,” Deckard said quickly and turned to the pots heating on the stove. And avoiding Owen’s searching gaze.

“Do you want to be with Hobbs?” Owen asked, not unkindly.

“I mean…” Deckard stopped. He honestly was not sure. He and Luke had had some bad history between them, which had Deckard convinced they could never be civil with each other. But, after the incident with the mistletoe, it seemed as if all the animosity between them had disappeared, leaving a fresh slate for them to work with. 

And if Deckard had to admit to it, he would say that he had truly enjoyed the time they had spent together over the last few weeks. Whenever he was with Luke, Deckard could feel a sense of calm and clarity wash over him, along with a warm glow in his chest.

Deckard didn’t realize he hadn’t answered Owen’s question, and had simply been standing there thinking until a new voice brought him out his musing.

“Oh, what did you do to break Deck?” Hattie admonished as she came into the kitchen.

Snapping out of his stupor, Deckard felt his cheeks warm.

“I just asked if he and Hobbs were dating,” Owen rolled his eyes. He had completely carved the carrot down into a nub, leaving behind unusable shreds of carrot. 

“Aren’t you two?” Hattie asked, surprise coloring her voice.

“No! We’re not,” Deckard snapped, and tried to focus on stirring the mash potatoes. Since he was avoiding both of them, he didn’t notice the shared looks and gestures between his siblings. 

~~~

Pulling the car into the O’Connor’s driveway, Luke felt ten years older. For the rest of the ride, he had unsuccessfully tried to convince Sam that he was not interested in Deckard. He could hear her asking another question in the back, as he stepped out of the car and opened her door. Behind him, he could hear someone opening the house’s front door and calling out to him and Sam.

“Hey Hobbs!” Brian called out. “Glad you could make it.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Luke called back, leading Sam up to the porch.

“Come on in. Deckard’s already here and took over the kitchen,” Brian said, opening the door open for them. 

From the corner of his eye, Luke could see Sam looking up at him and giving him a knowing smile. 

“Don’t you even start,” Luke jokingly told her as they entered the warmly lit house.

~~~

Carefully walking the large turkey out to the dining room table, Deckard could see Mia herding the children out of the way. As soon as he set it down, he felt something run straight into his leg. Looking down, Deckard was met with the wide grin of Baby Brian, who had learned to walk only a few months ago. 

“Why, ‘ello there, governor,” Deckard laughed and picked up the giggling toddler. 

“Bri! What’d I tell you about bothering Uncle Deckard,” Letty gently chastised. 

“He’s no problem. Are you?” Deckard cooed. 

“No!” Baby Brian responded, saying his favorite word.

“Here, let me take him,” Mia said. “You’re already doing too much by cooking dinner. The least we can do is make sure the kids stay out of your way.”

“Really, they’re not a problem,” Deckard assured.

“I don’t get how you’re still single,” Letty commented, taking Baby Brian from Mia and bouncing him on her hip. “You can cook, you love kids. I honestly don’t know how someone hasn’t snatched you up.”

“Oh,” Mia said, shocked. “I had thought…”

“What?” Deckard turned to her, an eyebrow raised in curiosity as he saw her cheeks turn red. 

“I thought you and Luke were a couple,” Mia hesitantly replied. 

Deckard could only stare at her, not knowing how to respond to the second assumption that night. 

“You know,” Letty butted in when neither Mia or Deckard said anything. “You two would make a great couple.”

“I think I’d have to disagree with you there,” Deckard squinted at her. “If you’ll excuse me, I better make sure Owen hasn’t ruined the kitchen.”

Quickly walking away, he desperately tried to ignore Mia and Letty’s laughter. 

~~~

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Dom joked as Luke and Sam walked into the living room.

“You try to navigate New York traffic during this time of year,” Luke joked back as he patted Dom on the shoulder. 

All around him, he could hear several of the others throwing out their own greetings. He could see Ramsey waving Sam over for a hug, while Roman and Tej were cracking jokes about the baby oil they had gotten Luke for Christmas. Off to the other side of the room, he could see Mr. Nobody sneakily placing more presents under the tree, and Little Nobody subtly trying to hide the action by standing in front of him.

Smiling at the scene, Luke took a seat next to Brian, throwing his own jokes back at Roman and Tej. They all sat together in the living room, watching Jack and Anna chasing Baby Brian through the rooms.

“All right everyone! Dinner’s ready,” Letty poked her head into the living room. 

Talking all at once, the family made their way into the dining room, the kids heading to their own table in the corner, while the adults took their seats at the large dining table. 

Luke could see the Shaw siblings choosing their seats, with Hattie shoving Deckard to the side so she could sit in between him and Owen. Standing back for a moment, Luke watched Deckard, Sam’s earlier questions echoing in his head. The man was smiling at Hattie’s antics, his face looking relaxed and happy. There was a spark in his eyes as he looked around him, true joy appearing as he took in everyone around him. Finally, he looked towards where Luke was standing, their eyes meeting the first time that night. 

And Luke could feel his heart skip. In that moment, everything fell away, leaving only Deckard, who stared back at him, the earlier spark in his eyes seeming to expand and make him appear even more beautiful. 

“Hey, man. You good?” Dom asked behind Luke.

Blinking, Luke cleared his throat. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Dom gave him a searching look before glancing in the direction Luke had been staring. “If you don’t want to sit by Deckard, I’m sure someone’s willin’ to move.”

“What?” Luke blurted out. Whipping his head back towards Deckard, he discovered that the only open seats were the one at the head of the table, usually Dom’s seat, and the seat on Deckard’s left. “No. No, it’s fine.”

“If you say so,” Dom said, his face unreadable as he watched Luke fidget. “Then come on. We don’t have all night.”

“Right,” Luke muttered and made his way over to the table. As he pulled out the chair, he could see that Deckard’s cheeks were a little redder than before, and he was firmly facing forward as he and Luke shared stiff greetings. 

At the head of the table, Dom took his seat, and a smirk. “Looks like we know who’s going to be saying grace this year.”

Everyone’s heads turned towards the end of the table, as Owen’s hand was hovering over a bread roll. 

“What?” He asked, eyes darting from everyone’s knowing faces. 

“Who ever grabs for food first, has to say grace,” Brian said smugly. 

Rolling his eyes, Owen waited until everyone held hands as he started the grace. “Bless us, Oh Lord…”

Throughout the speech, Luke didn’t catch a single word. He was too focused on Deckard’s hand in his. 

~~~

Dinner was eventful as stories of past missions and heists were shared. At one point, almost the whole table was speechless as the Shaw siblings each told how one of their cousins took them on a bank heist when they were children. Soon enough,small conversations broke out, however, several times, the conversations would turn to whispering. Throughout the dinner, Luke could see different people at the table turn to each other and throw looks at him and Deckard. Boldly, Luke stared back challengingly. The whispering would immediately stop, but Luke felt a nagging feeling of dread in the back of his head. Ultimately, he decided to ignore the feeling and enjoy the merriment that was truly alive in the O’Connor household. 

As time went on, Luke could feel Deckard slowly relaxing next to him, once he finally looked at Luke and their natural flow of insults reappeared. Not understanding Deckard’s early reluctance, Luke wondered if something had happened. But as the festivities went on and dinner wrapped up, the thought completely disappeared from Luke’s mind. 

Brian and Mia were collecting plates, with Deckard back in the kitchen, preparing the dessert. Luke could see Roman joining him in the kitchen to grab a few more beers. Suddenly, he popped his head back into the room. 

“Hey, Mia. Looks like you’re out of beer!” He called out. 

“There should be more in the garage,” she shouted back. 

“Where in the garage?” He whined. 

“Luke, would you mind getting it? I don’t trust him not to break something,” Mia asked.

“Yeah. No problem.” Luke agreed with Mia; Roman would probably get distracted and mess with something he shouldn’t.

Making his way out the side door connecting the house to the garage, Luke was glad for a moment of peace. Casting his gaze through the dimly lit room, he could see the O’Connors’ minivan along with a few bikes leaning against a wall. But, he didn’t see any more cases of beer. Deciding to check the other side of the room, Luke stepped away from the doorway. 

He was looking all around the minivan, when a stream of light fell into the garage and disappeared again. Standing up from his crouch, Luke saw that Deckard had entered the garage.

“What are you doing out here?” Deckard asked, eyebrows furrowed.

“Getting beer. You?”

“Brian just asked me to get some, too.”

They stared at each other for a second before Luke shrugged. “Well, I don’t think there’s anymore. I’ve looked everywhere in here.”

Deckard simply hummed back in response and narrowed his eyes. He quickly turned on his heel before trying the door. It was locked.

“Strange,” Deckard said, but there was no surprise in his voice.

“Think they did that on purpose?” Luke asked suspiciously.

“Undoubtedly,” Deckard responded. “Come on. Let’s see if they locked the front door as well.”

Luke followed after Deckard as they ducked under the partially opened garage door, stepping out into the yard. During dinner, it had snowed, leaving a fresh layer of snow on the ground. Luke stayed at the bottom of the porch as Deckard tried the front door, found it locked, and then proceeded to bang on it. 

When nobody answered, Luke’s suspicions were confirmed.

“I think they’re trying to send us a message,” Luke called out to Deckard as the smaller man walked down the steps, having given up on the door.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Deckard mumbled and rubbed his arms. Luke stared at the other man, just noticing that Deckard was only wearing a long sleeve shirt.

“I think you do,” Luke said. In a split second, he was in front of Deckard, arms spread open and inviting Deckard to step into them. “Deckard Shaw. After these last few weeks, after all the crazy and life threatening missions. And even after the absolutely bat-shit insance stunts you’ve pulled, I think I fell for you.”

Deckard was quiet during Luke’s speech. His eyes were wide and he had momentarily stopped shivering in shock. 

“What do you say?” Luke asked quietly, spreading his arms even further.

Instead of responding, Deckard barreled into Luke’s arms and threw his own around Luke’s shoulders. His lips were forceful as he slammed their mouths together. Not needing anymore encouragement, Luke easily wrapped his arms around Deckard, pulling the smaller man flush against him.

Luke’s heart was racing as what felt like fireworks started to spark all throughout his body from where their lips were connected. Deckard was pushing himself against him, almost as he was trying to fuse with Luke. Not expecting the added weight, Luke tried to take a step back to correct his stance, but felt his foot give out from under him as he slipped on the fresh snow.

They gave out twin shouts of surprise as they went down, Deckard falling on top of Luke. As gently as he could, Deckard sat up, his hands resting on Luke’s chest as he stared down at him, panting slightly. And Luke could only stare back. 

“God, you’re beautiful,” Luke couldn’t help whispering in awe. Deckard’s face went even redder than it had been from the cold. 

“And you’re an utter sap,” he mumbled back, but Luke could see his smile in the dim light from the house. 

“And for that,” Luke said, a smirk growing on his face. “You get to make snow angels with me.”

“What-- Ah!” Deckard shouted as Luke pushed him off and he landed in the snow next to him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Nope,” Luke laughed at the pissy tone in Deckard’s voice. Scooching a little away, Luke spread his arms and legs out in the snow, making his own angel. Next to him, he could hear Deckard give a small snort of amusement, but nonetheless, he started to copy Luke’s movements.

They stayed like that for a few minutes before Deckard stopped and rolled back on top of Luke. Luke’s arms easily stopped and snaked their way around Deckard. Smiling down at him, Deckard leaned forward and gave Luke a small peck. Deciding that wasn’t enough, Luke gently grabbed the back of his neck and brought Deckard down for a real kiss.

“Oi! We sent you two out here to admit you’re both idiots, not to catch your death!” Hattie yelled out from the house. Simultaneously, the two men looked at her and the rest of the team standing on the porch. Sam and Ramsey were holding their phones up and taking pictures, while everyone just watched, smiling down at the pair.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get back at them,” Luke whispered to Deckard, sending him a wink.

“Can’t wait,” Deckard smirked back at him, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

**… Twelve schemers a-scheming**

**Eleven spies a-spying**

**Ten assassins a-killing**

**Nine buildings exploding**

**Eight racers a-racing**

**Severn criminals a-stealing**

**Six missiles incoming**

**Five grenades!**

**Four stab wounds**

**Three fast cars**

**Two loaded guns**

**And a punch to the face!**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! I hope everyone has a nice break from life and can just relax for a bit.
> 
> And I just wanted to thank you all for following me on this adventure of a series! I enjoyed writing it and was overjoyed that people enjoyed reading it. However, next time I decide to do something like this, someone remind me not to write half the chapters the day I'm suppose to post them. While working forty hours a week. And while being extremely sick. 
> 
> Thanks again guys!


	13. Day 13- New Year's Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you thought I was done ;)

_ “On the twelfth day of Christmas…” _

“Man, would you shut up?!” Roman yelled into the coms.

_ “Twelve schemers, a-scheming…” _

“Dude, this is getting old. Just stop,” Tej groaned next.

_ “Ten assassins a-killing…” _

“How did you even come up with this? It makes no sense,” Ramsey muttered into her own com.

_ “Eight racers a-racing…” _

“I swear, if you don’t shut up in the next three seconds, I’m going to find you and beat your ass,” Letty growled.

_ “Five grenades!” _

“Hey, at least it’s not real Christmas music,” Brian laughed.

_ “Three fast cars…” _

“Yeah, if it was, I’d already knocked him out a long time ago,” Dom grunted.

_ “And a punch to the face!” _ Owen finished singing.

Deckard couldn’t help it as his lips spread into a grin as he listened to the team yelling at Owen over the coms. He had been singing twisted Christmas songs for the last two hours, not letting up, no matter the threat thrown at him. 

“Well, it’s not the revenge I was expecting, but it’s sweet nonetheless,” Luke chuckled into his ear and squeezed Deckard’s shoulder.

Snuggling into Luke’s side and drawing heat from the arm thrown over his shoulders, Deckard let out a small laugh. Even though they were surrounded on all sides by people, the cold New York air was still seeping into Deckard. 

They had been standing with the crowd for over three hours, waiting for the ball to drop in New York Times Square. Everywhere they looked, there were people yelling and cheering while wearing ridiculous hats as they all waited for midnight. 

However, the team wasn’t there to celebrate the end of the decade; there had been a rumor from one of Deckard’s associates claiming that Eteon was planning something at the Square. So, the team was strategically placed all around, with Dom, Letty, Luke, and Deckard playing up the couple act in the crowd. While Roman and Tej were acting like security and walking all around the crowd. And Brian and Ramsey were up near the stages, keeping an eye on the celebrity guests. 

All the while, Owen was in one of the buildings, keeping an eye on everything. And he was taking full advantage of the team not being able to come and physically stop him from singing. 

“Oh has a knack for creating the best revenge,” Deckard said back to Luke, having to almost yell to be heard over the crowd. “Have any requests for him?”

“What was that one song he kept singing while drunk on eggnog?”

“The cock one?”

“Yeah, that one,” Luke smirked down at Deckard.

“Hey Oh, how about you sing ‘Carrot for a Cock’ next?” Deckard asked, turning to his and Owen’s private channel on the coms. He heard Owen give a bark of laughter at his request. 

“Not a problem.”

_ “I remember when it all went wrong, guzzling eggnog all night long...”  _ Owen began. 

Several groans of frustration sounded through the com link, making Luke and Deckard to share twin smiles of mischief. Turning the com down, Deckard looked around the crowd, feeling the excitement in the air.

“Only a few more minutes left,” he nodded toward the giant clock above their heads as it counted down the last minutes of the year.

“Any New Year’s resolutions?” Luke asked, pulling Deckard closer to his side.

“Not really.”

“Well, I have one,” Luke turned Deckard to face him, keeping his arms firmly around the smaller man’s waist. 

“And what’s that?”  
“To make sure you feel loved every single day you’re with me,” Luke started and could see Deckard’s cheeks coloring. “To make sure you never doubt how much I love you or how much I want to spend my life with you.”

Deckard stared wide-eyed at him, mouth agape. Quick as lightning, he grabbed the back of Luke’s head and pulled him down. As their lips connected, Deckard could feel waves of passion coursing through his body and let Luke to take over the kiss. Pleasure wound its way through them, moans leaving both of them. Pulling away briefly, Luke couldn’t help the breathless laugh that left him.

“I think we’re supposed to be doing this when the clock strikes midnight.”

“Do you really want to wait one more minute?” Deckard glared at him.

“Hey, I like being traditional.”

Deckard just rolled his eyes, but nonetheless he turned his head back to the clock as it counted down the final minute of the year.

“Here’s to another great year,” Luke whispered as the crowd around them started the countdown. “But let’s try not to get nearly killed as many times, ok?”

“No promises,” Deckard smirked and wrapped his arms around Luke’s neck.

_ “Five, four…” _

“Happy New Year’s,” Luke smiled.

_ “Two, one…” _

“Happy New Year’s,” Deckard mouthed back as the crowd erupted into cheers around them. All around them, couples were kissing, while others were shouting in excitement. In their ears, they could faintly hear Owen still singing, with the team kept up their flow of complaints. Ignoring all of it, Deckard leaned forward and met Luke halfway as they shared their first of many kisses of the decade. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year's Everyone! I hope this year goes well for all of you!
> 
> (Ps, the song "Carrot for a Cock" is a real song on YT)

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, feel free to comment!
> 
> Also, if you ever want to talk Shobbs, the Shaw family, or anything else, hit me up at my tumblr  
> omnivorousshipper


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